When establishing the itinerary for this trip I had to choose between Dublin and Edinburgh for our starting point. I don't remember why I chose the former (maybe flights from Stockholm were cheaper), but I'm glad I did.

I was expecting a smaller version of London with nicer people and weirder accents, but oversimplifying the Irish capital that way would be doing the city a disservice. It's grittier than Stockholm, for sure - we may or may not have passed a trio huddled around a lit candle doing crack cocaine on the sidewalk one afternoon, but charming and beautiful in its own way what with all the cute houses, brightly painted doors, and sweeping public parks. The gaudy nightlife mecca Temple Bar is much less quaint, though I did enjoy catching a screening of The Killing of a Sacred Deer at the Irish Film Institute there. Most of the city's main attractions are within easy walking distance but, for the ones that aren't, the bus system is one of the best I've ever used. (And the buses have free wifi and charging stations!)

Dublin's food scene is much more Seattle or Portland than San Francisco, which I dread returning home to now that I know that there are places in the world where I can get just as good a meal at a fraction of the price. Highlights: beer-battered fish and chips at Fish Shop, classic pastas at Terra Madre, and the three-course prix fixe dinner for €27 at Camden Kitchen (because nearby Richmond was fully booked).

Some photos below. See the rest on Flickr.

PostedNovember 17, 2017

AuthorMisa Shikuma

Categoriestravel diary, photography

Tagsdublin, ireland

The weekend before I left Sweden my roommate and I took a quick overnight trip to Gothenburg. Our co-workers (even those who hail from the west coast city) scoffed, asking us in that semi-sarcastic-but-mostly-serious tone, "But what are you going to do there?" She has extended family there; I have a friend and former co-worker. And since we worked opposite shifts and never saw each other at the apartment, it was a nice pre-goodbye girls' trip. We wandered, shopped, had afternoon tea, commiserated over our respective boy issues, etc.

Highlights: delicious Italian food at La Strega, all the chic AF design stores in and around Inom Vallgraven, coffee at Da Matteo, pastries with the chocolate likeness of Gustavus Adolphus (former king and founder of Gothenburg), Slottsskogen park.

Photos below.

Slottsskogen - think a Swedish version of Central Park.

One of two resident moose at Slottskogen. According to signs his name is Mooses.

PostedNovember 15, 2017

AuthorMisa Shikuma

Categoriesphotography, travel diary

Tagssweden, scandinavia

Another weekend after another four-day, fifty-plus hour work week. Praise be. Blessed be the fruit, etc. etc.

Last week two of my dearest college friends were in town, so I got to show off the city I've come to know and love, make good use of my employee discount with the restaurant group's wine and cocktail bars, and cross some things off my Stockholm bucket list.

Drottningholm Palace, about 45 minutes away from the city by public transportation, is the main private residence of the Swedish royal family. Situated on the island Lovön, it's similar to Fontainebleau in size and scale. Geometric, Last Year at Marienbad-esque hedges and manicured gardens (including a random off-leash dog park) surround the mansion. And, on the mid-morning weekday that we visited, it was gloriously empty.

Visitors are allowed to wander some of the palace's oldest and grandest rooms, as well as the Chinese Pavilion (a birthday gift to a previous monarch from her husband), with the purchase of a ticket, but the vast gardens operate as a public park. The 18 kilometer Antiquities Trail runs along the border of the entire property; my friends expressed interest but I was secretly glad that we opted not to do that.

Photos below. Click to enlarge.

The gardens are dotted with statues like this one.

PostedOctober 1, 2017

AuthorMisa Shikuma

Categoriestravel diary, photography

Tagsstockholm, sweden

Stora Gatan, the main street in the historical city center.

The weather here is beginning to turn. The trees still have their foliage, but the air is cool and crisp. More than ever one must continually check the hourly forecast for rain; I've taken to stashing an umbrella in my purse at all times as well as gloves.

Last weekend I took the commuter train out to Märsta, northwest of Stockholm, and then a bus to Sigtuna. As I watched the city transition to suburbs, large buildings and parking lots gave way to open fields broken up by paved bike trails and cottage-like houses whose red clapboard exteriors made them resemble miniature farmhouses.

Situated on Skarven Bay, Sigtuna is a quaint town dating back to 680. Its medieval church ruins, Norse rune stones, and picturesque historic main street attract visitors, though when I went on a weekday morning it was pretty dead save for an elderly tour group.

Nonetheless, I welcomed the tranquility as I wandered the quiet streets and observed ducks navigating the calm water after a rough work week. I stopped at Tant Brun's, a rustic cafe with low ceilings, antique wooden chairs and tables, and strong coffee served up in copper kettles that took a lot of milk to become, as my sous chef would say, "hamster-colored." (Fika, the Swedish concept of having coffee - and usually with a pastry, is something I've embraced whole-heartedly). Afterward I returned to Stora Gatan to admire its brightly colored and endearingly rickety shops once more before heading back to Stockholm, and reality.

Another rune stone, this time near on the waterfront.

PostedSeptember 24, 2017

AuthorMisa Shikuma

Categoriestravel diary, photography

Tagssweden, scandinavia

View of the city center from Monteliusvägan.

It's been almost exactly five years since my first (and previous) visit to Stockholm, yet it took almost no time at all for me to remember why I liked it so much. Of the many positive attributes I could reel off, I'll just limit myself to these three: it's clean, green, and the people are friendly. Only 2.5 of those are true of San Francisco; guess which ones.

There are four of us stages (pronounced the French way with an ah for those outside of the restaurant industry): a Serb, an Indian, a Swede by birth (though not by blood), and me. I am the only female in the cohort, but thankfully one of the full-time cooks is also. Stages have long been a cornerstone of fine dining, but no matter how much we support the team, we are never fully a part of it. And so, we band together; knock back beers; trade stories; bond over the challenges of living abroad.

Photos from exploits with new friends below.

One of many antique shops in Gamla Stan (old town).

Visitors and food trucks at Hornstulls Marknad.

PostedAugust 20, 2017

AuthorMisa Shikuma

Categoriestravel diary, working girl diary, photography

Tagsstockholm

When life hands you an invitation to a wedding in an obscure part of Indiana, you RSVP YES and immediately start planning your trip to Chicago, gastronomic mecca of the Midwest. Four days and as many nights was enough to just scratch the surface of what the city has to offer, though it would take at least a couple weeks to try all the restaurants that I wanted to.

Things we liked: river tour by the Chicago Architecture Foundation, the food, Hamilton, the coffee, the 606, the International Museum of Surgical Sciences, food again, the American Writers' Museum.

Things we didn't like: ...

Photos below.

Marina City (aka the Corn Cob Buildings) by architect Bertrand Goldberg.

Revival Food Hall in downtown is an excellent lunch spot.

Library of the International Museum of Surgical Sciences.

Original manuscript of On the Road below a map of Kerouac's travels at the American Writers' Museum. — Original manuscript of *On the Road* below a map of Kerouac's travels at the American Writers' Museum.

A biker on the 606, a former railroad line converted to public park.

PostedAugust 13, 2017

AuthorMisa Shikuma

Categoriestravel diary, photography

Tagschicago, usa

We didn't spend nearly enough time in Saigon, but in our two days there managed to immerse ourselves in the city's smells, tastes and legacy. Our hotel, the Continental Saigon, dating back to 1880, was located just across the street from the opera house in an area dotted with architectural vestiges of the French colonial days. The double room I shared with my mother was cavernous and stately with ceilings of church-like proportions and a dainty sitting room area. At the same time, crossing the street away from the opera house brought on aggressively modern skyscrapers, designer stores, locals selling everything from street food to knock-off sunglasses, as well as hip new purveyors like the Gingko concept store. The city's disparate identities is perhaps best reflected in the fact that it has two names: Ho Chi Minh City and Saigon.

Like many other Southeast Asian metropolises, Saigon can best be described as organized chaos. Millions of motorbikes sort of, mostly, obey traffic lights and laws, at night forming an endless, slow-moving sea of lights amongst the honking cars. The bikes congregate ahead of the other vehicles at red lights, surging forward like an angry swarm the moment it turns green.

Despite the many many marks of history on the city's geography, it's also decidedly cosmopolitan - we passed many European designer stores, ethnic restaurants representing cuisines from around the globe, and even a subway project in conjunction with a Japanese company.

Photos below.