Tramping Tampa: Six Years of Tea

The place is called Kaleisia--none of us know how to pronounce it yet--and I'm afraid that there'll only be coffee and black tea, that I'll have to shuffle to make some excuse to my new friends, but once inside I see rows of herbal blends and fruit tisanes. Once seated and laughing over steaming cups, an older woman comes up and tells us how pretty we are. Gabby, with her long black curls and big eyes, is "exotic," Shauna is "like a Victorian doll" in her lace dress and creamy headband, and I, apparently, look like I should be in Channelside--a part of the city I know nothing about. Nevertheless, the odd compliment combines with collegiate chatter and aromatic tea to create my first real sensation of being out in the world.

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My sister thinks it would be fun to bike into Ybor and so we set off, and by the time we cruise up Rep de Cuba we're sweating. Thankfully a cool new coffeeshop has opened recently at a squat brick building called the Bunker and now we have a reason to give it a test-drive. The homemade hummus is good, the iced hibiscus tea even better, and we feel unbearably hip, sitting on the back patio with an issue of Creative Loafing.

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Record Store Day happily coincides with the opening of the better-faster-stronger-more-caffeinated version of Mojo Books and Music, and I am lost in the shop, strolling expansive stacks with an iced citron green tea in hand. It's everything I ever wanted from a used bookstore: vinyl and irrelevant hardbacks and good tea and staff just unfriendly enough to be cool and just pretentious enough to play Rumours on the turntable (but skip the best tracks).

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It's late morning on a Sunday, humid as balls and bright. I am on an errand to pick up a friend from across the bay, a vastly hungover friend who requests a sharp cup of something-or-other, and so we jaunt down Beach Drive to a place I've seen but never had a chance to visit. It's there that we discover the miracles of Dr. Feelgood, Hooker Tea Company's famous detox tea, and gigantic muffins, and cush places to sprawl in the dusty sunlight and gossip lazily as the vagaries of the previous night seep away.

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When Anna texts to see if I want to go study at Sacred Grounds it finally sinks in that I've never been there, despite living ten minutes away from it for the past five years. Out we roll, because it's 10:30 on a Tuesday and Kaleisia is closed and neither of us can bear to be in the library any longer. And if we study less than we lounge, if we find reasons to get refills and snoop around the shop and study the pizza options for longer than necessary, well, that's grad school.

Tales from the interstate

IT LIVES.

Yes, dear readers, it's true--I have returned. And here, in a nutshell, is my experience of a few of our Union's states.

• The stretch between Ocala and the Georgia border in Florida is a Cthulhu-forsaken wasteland of anti-choice billboards and strip joints.
• Athens, GA remains adorable and full of good food and beer. Given its size, I know a disproportionately large amount of people living there who are mostly unconnected to one another (seven, at last count)
• Asheville, NC is downright magical. I highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend Dobra Tea on Lexington, and Never Blue on Broadway. Three words: chocolate assam tea. Three more: mini meatloaf sandwiches.
• Waynesville, NC is also pretty magical. North Carolina is forgiven for making me drive in Actual Falling Snow.
• West Virginia seems to be a mostly awful place. Notable highlights: outrageous toll money on the turnpike, winding mountain roads with no lights, a bucolic scene of several kittens dragging a roadkill'd and/or still-alive unidentified animal across a street. Someone speak out in defense of West Virginia, please!

And, well. Now I'm in oHIo. Hire me, Cleveland companies!

Things I observed about the greater Cleveland, Ohio area

• Plenty of good post-coital food. If you're lazy and/or in a hurry to catch a flight, head to the Big Boy for a Brawny Lad or pulled pork sandwich. If you want to make a night of it, Jammy Buggar's in Lakewood has an ENORMOUS fish'n'chips plate with hand-cut fries and plenty of good beer.
• Irony. Has not yet been invented in Parma, OH. All the Big Boy customers save me and my manfriend seemed very serious about their food.
• Parks. Metroparks, specifically--lovely! I like a city which invests in green spaces.
• Comic book shops run by ladies are the best. I'm speaking of Northcoast Nostalgic specifically. Great place! That'll be my new LCS when I move in November.
• Roads. Suck. I have never seen so many potholes in my life.
• Libraries. Rock! About five branches within easy distance of where I'll be living. Now if only any of them were hiring...
• Symbols on houses. Lots of them--crowns, initials, sunbursts, etc. I saw this a lot. I have no idea what it's about. Yuppification of Amish hexes, perhaps?

With regard to fleeing to the Cleve

Dear readers, I know you've been anxious to hear all the juicy details about our little trip to Cleveland, Ohio this past weekend. Were you mistaken for a model, Diana? you cry. Did you dine with Little Richie? Well, no to both queries. Liz Lemon, you have led me astray! Alas. However, it was a charming trip. We did not get to see too much of the city proper, since the school my beloved will likely be attending is in Independence, OH (about eight miles from the city), but we did take a trip into downtown on Friday night for a stop at the West Side market and the Great Lakes Brewing Company.

Both quite marvelous! The market is HUGE. And full of tasty things to eat. We resisted buying a whole pig (which you can do, at several stalls) and satisfied ourselves with cannoli and an apple fritter. So many delectable things. If we do end up in the Cleve I will be getting my produce from that market. An entire long, looooong skinny building stuffed with fresh produce! Magical! The Brewing Company was also quite nice--yummy pub food and a great selection of microbrews. I can't wait to try one of their many seasonal ales (the film nerd in me is itching for a Nosferatu Imperial Red Ale. Also it just sounds tasty). They also have maybe the largest selection of merchandise I've ever seen, from ANY company that wasn't Disney World. I mean, they have their own chapstick.

Also...there was snow. Serious amounts of snow. As my sister posted on my Facebook wall, Cleveland is currently about the second-snowiest city in the US. SNOW, PEOPLE. I am a poor sad thin-blooded Floridian. Even ice scares me. I exaggerate a bit; it was actually not as cold as I was expecting. I suppose once it gets cold enough to snow, the chill sort of plateaus. Below is the view from our hotel room. Please note the metal handles of the pool:

As you can see, there was quite a bit of white stuff floating around. I admit I tromped outside on Friday morning and played. Presumably the hotel staff were all giggling at me. That reminds me--if you have the opportunity, STAY AT A CROWNE PLAZA HOTEL. Maybe the best hotel experience I've had (though the Sandman in Vancouver was also aces). They have a complimentary shuttle, people. By "complimentary" I don't just mean "will get you to the airport". I mean "will drive you wherever you want to go as long as you tip them". Way better than a cab! Clean rooms, good food, friendly staff as well. Just an all-around good experience. Our thanks, Crowne Plaza and Cleveland. I look forward to seeing you again.

In which our heroine falls in love

Usually my ladyboners are reserved for things like Robert Downey, Jr.'s abs and each new piece of Tron: Legacy footage that emerges. However, this one is occurring due to something a bit closer to home. You see, my dear manfriend is applying to various medical schools and presumably this time next year we will be somewhere that is not Trampa, Florida. If you've ever been to Tampa, you know why I'm so happy; though I will miss my friends and warm weather dearly, this is just really not where I want to spend my primo years.

So that's part of the titillation--leaving the Bay behind. Another part is where we might be going. His, and now my, top two schools are located in Des Moines, Iowa, and Cleveland, Ohio. Oh Diana! you say. The Midwest? The HEARTLAND? You're a coastal elite! How will you survive without mass quantities of water around you at all times? How will you survive the...snow??! As for water, yes, Des Moines has little to offer; Cleveland, however, is located on Lake Erie! Snow, well, from my mother's experience and what I've read, acclimation only takes a few months. I'll get over it.

And you know why I'll get over it? Know why I suddenly have a hard-on for the Midwest? Cleveland is consistently ranked one of the most livable cities in the country and Des Moines is getting there. Both have higher average salary rates and lower costs of living than anywhere in Florida. Cleveland's public transit system was ranked the best in the country in 2007 (and you all know how I feel about public transit). Des Moines has a great ape trust AND was ranked "Best Place for Businesses and Careers" by Forbes in 2010! Both are far bluer than even the bluest area of Florida (Miami)! Cleveland has Drew Carey!

(If you can't dazzle, wear 'em down)

Ok, that's it. You've outed me. Despite its many, many flaws, I love The Drew Carey Show. And that is why it's now my new dream to make Cleveland, Ohio, my intermediate step on the road north of the border, with Des Moines being an extremely close second. Heartland here we come!

Where does your heart live? (again)

Several people, presumably sick of hearing me rhapsodize about The Best Place On Earth, have said, But Diana! You LOVE Florida! How can you even think of moving somewhere else?

It's true. I do love Florida. Occasionally it feels like I'm the lone soul in this Bible-thumping, hellishly hot, tacky, swampy, lousy-with-Northerners, sandy-soiled oasis who really enjoys being here. I am a second-generation Floridian, which is only impressive if you consider that about 80% of the population here is from somewhere else, and my third-fondest wish (first-fondest: the offer of a librarian position in the London library and a flat in Bloomsbury; second-fondest: guaranteed expatriation to The Best Place On Earth along with a librarian position in Victoria) is for the clan house in Merritt Island, which currently belongs to an aunt and uncle, to be willed to me. I love marshes, loud birds, really hot sunshine, citrus fruit, narrow old roads, mocking tourists, slow rivers brown with leaf-mold, abundant seafood, heat lightning, water prairies, Disney World, and Florida's greatest treasure, cold springs. By the way--if you have never been in 72-degree crystal-clear spring water, YOU HAVE NOT LIVED. So see to that.

I don't love awful traffic, religious fanatics, bizarre and terrifying zoning laws which allow for uncontrolled urban and suburban growth, interstates, anti-pedestrian cities (did you know that the top four worst cities for pedestrians are all in Florida? Be proud, Tampons! We're number three!), the destruction of a beautiful and unique environment, a hideous attitude toward immigration, the giant Confederate flag flying at the junction of I-75 and Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard, despicable medical laws, and being sunburned in the ten minutes it takes to walk across my college campus.

I am not under the illusion that The Best Place On Earth is perfect. However, it is leagues closer to perfection than my dear home state, or any other part of the United States that I have been in. What can I say beyond "I'm in love"? It is true that part of my heart belongs to London and the UK in general, and always will, but my brain has accepted that immigration to Britain is a pipe dream. Immigration to Canada is not. It's within my reach and I want it. My core values and concerns are represented better by Canada in general and British Columbia in particular, and the United States doesn't seem concerned with changing that. A reasonably common subtext to the But Diana! You LOVE Florida! concerned queries is But why would you want to live anywhere other than the United States? I really don't think the concept of immigration occurs to the bulk of white middle-class Americans; they're in the US, and the US is where immigrants come, and that's the extent of immigration for the majority of US citizens. Little thought of themselves going anywhere else.

"Anywhere else" is, I feel, where my destiny lies. Across the continent, three time zones and a country away. I'm almost there.

The best place on Earth

This is British Columbia's tagline. Though I am fond of hyperbole, I don't usually take it seriously; in this case, however, I find B.C.'s selling line more than apt. Vancouver is the second most-amazing city I have ever been to (London, of course, being the first).

As western Canada's largest metropolitan area, Vancouver is as bustling of a city as you could desire, full of interesting food, easily navigable streets, laid-back citizens, and right good public transportation (in many varieties, too! Want to take an aquabus across False Creek to Yaletown? No problem!)--and also contains stunning natural spaces, in-city oases, and parks galore. Stanley Park is obviously Vancouver's green selling point and easily lives up to its hype: acres of West Coast rainforest, thousands of bird species, cool streams, and That Seawall make spending a day there magical. But don't stop there, if you're into the great outdoors; Queen Elizabeth Park and its flower conservatory and amazing views, Vandusen Botanical Gardens and its Elizabethan maze and beautiful landscapes, UBC's Nitobe Memorial Garden and Chinatown's classical Chinese scholar's garden, the forested sprawl of the North Shore, the isolated calm of Pacific Spirit Regional Park and the University of British Columbia, Beach Avenue's stretch of jogging and bicycle paths along the water, the numerous small parks dotting every neighborhood...forgive if I run on, but Vancouver is the dream city for nature-lovers.

And that's not all! Oh, no; no no. Culture-freaks will find their happy here too. UBC houses the country's best collection of northwest coastal native artifacts, including dozens of Haida and Kwakiutl totems, masks, implements, art, and clothing, as well as other treasures from a variety of cultures (including some stunning samurai armor, Cantonese opera costumes, Yoruba figurines, and a beautiful collection of Buddhas). The Vancouver Art Gallery and Emily Carr University between them host (I think) Canada's largest collection of Emily Carr paintings. Chinatown's gorgeous Sun Yat-Sen Classical Garden and nearby Cultural Center provide history and information about the Chinese presence in British Columbia. Stanley Park contains a grand aquarium stuffed with amazing specimens and fascinating tidbits about British Columbia's ecosystems.

What about foodies, you say? Vancouver says, Come hungry. Between salmon fresh from the northern rivers, locally-grown fruits and vegetables, and a vast array of ethnic cuisines, Vancouverites eat high on the hog. If in Granville Island (and have a few dollars to play with), try out the Sandbar for a wonderful view of False Creek coupled with fabulous West Coast eats. Cruise the West End near the harbor for an excellent variety of Japanese and Korean food, and don't miss a Gastown pub for local brews (Okanagan Springs Brewmaster is a great dark beer) and yummy comfort food--Irish Heather is a good stop. For the best view in the city combined with great dishes, head to Queen Elizabeth Park's Seasons in the Park restaurant and try the stuffed mushrooms.

If your belt's a bit tight after all that munching, no worries--Vancouver is one of the most pedestrian-friendly big cities I've been to. Hordes of walkers crowd every streetcorner and cars actually stop for them...amazing! Thanks to the city's grid system, Vancouver's downtown is extremely walkable and just about everything needed to sustain life is within strolling distance. If bicycling is more your ouvre, rental stores abound (such as Spokes on Denman near Stanley Park), and the uphill climbs throughout the city will make you feel less guilty about having another beer later on.

Oh friends, just go to there, as Liz Lemon says. It's amazing. It has something for everyone. The citizens are friendly, the city is beautiful and well-made and forward-thinking. You will never be bored. I can't wait to go back--permanently, someday.

Where does your heart live?

So, I am a literature fangirl, we know this much is true. Something that I find many of the books I love to have in common is a marvelous establishment of place--this is true of L.M. Montgomery's many books, Susan Cooper's YA series(es), Marion Zimmer Bradley's book The Firebrand, Ian McEwan's books Saturday and The Cement Garden, Kazuo Ishiguro's conception of Britain in The Remains of the Day, A.S. Byatt's masterpiece Possession, and many more.

And so, something I have always wanted to do: go on a literary tour. You know, a physical tour of a geographical location based on how that location is written. I assume Big Cities do this a lot; I think there's a Dickens tour of London, for instance. And while I think you could tour London via LOTS of books (as Anna Quindlen's lovely Imagined London does), I am more interested in smaller and broader spaces. I want to tour Avonlea through the real town of Cavendish and wander about in Kingsport in the footsteps of Anne; I want to hike Cader Idris and walk by Tal y Llyn after Bran and Will, and trail down the Cornish beach with the Drews; I want to climb Glastobury Tor in search of Avalon.

The only time to date that I have really been able to indulge in my literary-place fantasies is with The Yearling, by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. It helps that I live in Florida and am relatively close to her historic ranch property at Cross Creek. It also helps that my mother is both a Yearling fanatic (as am I) and loves the natural cold springs which thickly coat much of Ocala National Forest and surrounding area; our summer trips when I was a young thing were most often to the springs and campgrounds throughout the region. Rawlings wrote what is basically a guidebook to the central Florida scrub in The Yearling, including name-dropping Juniper, Silver Glen, and Salt Springs as well as towns such as Volusia and Fort Gates, all of which are real visitable places. And--best of all--there is an actual Yearling Trail precisely across the road from Silver Glen Springs which has a long hiking trail with information about Rawlings, the book, Florida wildlife, and what this area of Florida was like in her time, as well as some historic sites from the Long farm (the family and land on which The Yearling was based). It is not at all difficult to imagine Jody and Flag frolicking down the sandy road toward the springs when hiking this area due to the beautiful specificity of Rawlings' writing.

"He reached the thick-bedded sand of the Silver Glen road. The tar-flower was in bloom, and fetter-bush and sparkleberry. He slowed to a walk, so that he might pass the changing vegetation tree by tree, bush by bush, each one unique and familiar. He reached the magnolia tree where he had carved the wildcat's face. The growth was a sign that there was water nearby. It seemed a strange thing to him, when earth was earth and rain was rain, that scrawny pines should grow in the scrub, while by every branch and lake and river there grew magnolias...The east bank of the road shelved suddenly. It dropped below him twenty feet to a spring. The bank was dense with magnolia and loblolly bay, sweet gum and gray-barked ash. He went down to the spring in the cool darkness of their shadows. A sharp pleasure came over him. This was a secret and a lovely place.

A spring as clear as well water bubbled up from nowhere in the sand. It was as though the banks cupped green leafy hands to hold it. There was a whirlpool where the water rose from the earth. Grains of sand boiled in it. Beyond the bank, the parent spring bubbled up at a higher level, cut itself a channel through white limestone and began to run rapidly downhill to make a creek. The creek joined Lake George, Lake George was a part of the St John's River, the great river flowed northward and into the sea. It excited Jody to watch the beginning of the ocean. There were other beginnings, true, but this one was his own."