#wanderhops

The hardest part about traveling is coming back. 

My belief in this strengthens the more that I travel and spend time on the road. 

The past few weeks in Europe were rejuvenating and life changing, but that doesn’t distort the difficulties involved in readjusting to reality. 

I felt motivated and excited to move forward with my life, but I was so sad that the adventure had come to an end. 

In three weeks, I’d experienced so much kindness, curiosity, intellectual stimulation and connection. The weeks on the road felt like being home, even with an address that rotated every few days. 

I’d been bouncing around Europe with a backpack and carryon rolling suitcase, but what I brought back couldn’t be confined to physical spaces. 

Many of the strangers I met probably won’t remember me; my presence occupies the blink of an eye in the expanse of time these people spend in their local neighborhoods and hometowns. But as the traveler, these casual meetings and connections are everything--they define an experience and the entire expanse of time on the road. 

It’s probably selfish, but I occasionally have a hard time coming to grips with that fact. Years ago, when I visited Montréal, a chance encounter would later become what I would credit with the strength and fearlessness through which I moved to LA, bringing just two bags and sleeping on a couch for seven months. A stranger helped me to redefine what was possible, and completely simplifying my life and taking a huge risk became reality. 

I never wanted to leave Montréal, the same way that a large part of me felt broken up about departing Europe. Just one plane ride pulled me away from something that provided me with so much fulfillment. I don’t love anything the way I love being on the road, but trips don’t last forever. 

There’s a common misconception that people who like to travel are escapists who are lazy and spoiled. I travel with money I’ve saved over the years (however little at a time), and I often bring up the fact that my gypsy soul will wander, but has no hesitation slowing the running pace for things that could matter more. 

I’ve spent years working office jobs--some of which were so toxic that I considered both prescriptions and therapy. What I ultimately learned was that I’d rather sever the problem at its source than become reliant upon pills or psychotherapy. There is nothing wrong with either, but because my inherent condition was a result of my environment, my personal solution was to get out.

My path is not yours or anyone else’s. Returning to the States without steady income is scary, but not as scary as being in a job that sucked the life out of me. I don’t have a destination in mind, but I’m moving forward. I have entrepreneurial aspirations, goals of volunteering and a lot of ocean air to breathe in once I get back to LA. 

It’s hard to articulate what it means to be away and how it feels to be surrounded by light and positive energy and chase the sun, but in the next few blog posts recapping my adventures, I promise to do my best. 

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

Looking back on the past two months in Austin in some ways feels as though the days came and went with the hypnotic, blurring nature of an interstate in the last moments before rush hour. Conversely, the ups and downs of deciding to spend time in Texas’ capital occasionally left me feeling a few hours behind those road warriors; alone with my endless train of thoughts and motions just robotic enough to make it to my exit.

Transitional periods are always hard. As much as I move and travel, there’s never a truly painless way to get through uncertainty. Ultimately, the key is to keep moving forward.

While struggling to ensure financial stability and security, I gave myself a gift that I’m often deprived of while adjusting to a new job or schedule: I focused on my emotional, physical and mental health.

In Southern California, I had gotten myself down to a routine of taking dance classes four to five times per week. In Austin, I fell in love with a yoga studio upon first breath.

I’ve always been a huge fan of yoga, and as someone who struggles to turn off the mental chatter, I found that I left class feeling more focused and centered, even though I can’t completely tune out everything but my breathing.

Yoga became my everyday staple, and I could count on leaving both sweaty and rejuvenated. There were times I walked out of the studio feeling six feet tall. It’s these yoga classes that I credit for making the commitment to my next transition all the more fluid.

After two months of enjoying outdoor activities in Austin’s various watering holes, chasing food trucks and restaurants, enjoying thirst-quenching local beer and realizing that it starts to get harder to get lost in a small city, it was time to pack up and go.

I missed California. I ached for the ocean, the desert and the mountains. But I had another adventure to embark upon before I could return with a clear head to my favorite state: a trip to Europe was the prescription for my wanderers’ itch.

After scouring Google flights for a few days, I purchased an open-ended ticket to Barcelona from the East Coast where I’d be making a pit stop to see my family (my mother had given me plenty of guilt about not visiting enough.)

I mentally began plotting my possible travel routes: Spain to Portugal to France, bus from Paris to London (it’s actually a thing), trains to explore the UK castles, pubs and landmarks, and possibly a ferry to Ireland. I was also determined to see Greece and Amsterdam, but only time would tell where the foreign roads would lead me. As someone who’d rather explore a few cities intimately than a plethora to just scrape the surface, I knew the quantity would inevitably take a backseat to the quality of my travels.

In light of this trans-Atlantic voyage, I made my final plans in ATX. I enjoyed rooftop beers poolside at the W, watched the sunset at Zilker Park, devoured Voodoo Doughnut treats that were relatively worth the stomach-agitating aftermath, and of course, sipped plenty of caffeinated beverages at my favorite coffee shops.

On one of my final few days, I headed south to San Antonio to see an artist I’ve followed for 12 years. Andrew McMahon has been the soundtrack to my high school pop punk days as much as he helped to fuel my collegiate California dreams and ultimately, my semi-permanent Holiday From Real in the Golden State.

The magic of Andrew lies within his insightful use of language, and the ease with which he tells a story. While there are multiple artists I hold close to my heart for their story-telling ability, it’s Andrew who also has a live experience that keeps you dancing and geeking out even after the last of the encore. Andrew’s music is pure joy and effervescence; fans leave feeling taller and with a sense of belonging. Live music can be a spiritual experience, but Andrew is a king whose state is a church. All are welcome, and the congregation is loyal ‘til death.

It speaks volumes that even the songs in Andrew’s set list that never made it onto U.S. records are still sung right back to our on-stage monarch. Over a decade of discography and you’d be hard-pressed to find a dozen fans who didn’t know every word to every song during the show.

While part of my motivation to go see Andrew for the third time was nostalgic, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to owning his entire discography from all past projects (including as many rare and unreleased tracks as I’ve been able to get my hands on) in addition to his new material. It’s a unique trip to hear songs from Everything in Transit and realize that lines like, “I never thought that I’d be living on your floor, but the rents are high and LA’s easy” resonate in a completely different way after California stopped being an unattainable dream and instead became reality.

My California, much like Andrew’s over the vast majority of his albums, has most often been set against a backdrop of struggle. While it’s a main plot point that inevitably defines much of the experience, it’s not the whole story. It’s a badge of honor that speaks to character to not let the struggle break you, but to shape you in the ways that make you humble, raw and real. The struggle is a “sweet catastrophe,” if I may borrow and appropriate Andrew’s own words.

Still buzzing from the Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness concert and dropping my bags into my high school bedroom, I landed in PHL to be lost again in a strange inhabitable time capsule.

My bruised fingers, which had taken a beating from last minute packing and storage, reached towards an old t-shirt that had seen decades’ worth of childhood closets, and in the moment was soft enough to be silk. Weary, sleep-deprived eyes scanned the room at objects that were both familiar and foreign. The childhood trunk that I’d painted and decorated with lyrics to my favorite songs was still near the closet. Ticket stubs for Andrew McMahon’s various projects were still pinned to a memo board. Fake flower petals that I’d stuck to lamp shades and floating shelves to give the semblance of “cohesion” among my creative chaos still clung to their surfaces—collecting dust but still adding pops of color to the space. Books in every genre, from psychology to fiction to classics adorned shelves and storage spaces.

Most interesting, perhaps, were the pieces of California that were inescapable throughout the bedroom. In high school, postcards I’d collected from San Diego and Laguna Beach served as a reminder of the promise to myself to establish residence on the West Coast. Even after the relocation, I’d still managed to find pieces of “home” to bring to my parents’ own. Of course, the space still represented more of my past than my present or future, but it was certainly remarkable to take note of the things that hadn’t so much stayed the same, but had evolved alongside me.

My love for California has all but faded. Sure, I’ve learned that most of my previous Californian addresses weren’t right for me, but I have my heart set on making a transition to a beach community closer to San Diego. Having enough miles between LA’s city limits will provide “breathing room” and a healthier atmosphere—both literally and figuratively.

As I mulled over the past few weeks and the next few ahead, my thoughts again drifted to my return to California. The past two and a half years had contained six moves with a seventh just on the horizon.

It was anything but surprising that Andrew’s words came to mind as I slowed my mental running pace and steadied my breathing to get ready for bed.

“And when it’s all over, I’ll come back for another year…”

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

Alessandra

ATXperience, Pt. 2 Beer List:

Ginger Lemon Radler - Boulevard Brewing Co. (4.75/5)

The only real option when suffering from Austin allergies.

Otra Vez - Sierra Nevada Brewing Co. (4.75)

Lovely gose!

Spirit Animal - Blue Owl Brewing (3.75)

Hops present in this sour beer without being overpowered by them.

Professor Black - Blue Owl Brewing (4.5)

Sour stout. Faaaaaantastic.

Black Thunder (Schwarzbier) - Austin Beerworks (4.5)

Prairie Somewhere - Prairie Artisan Ales (4.25)

Y.S.B. #4 Figgie Smalls - Austin Beer Garden Brewing Co. (4.25)

Tasty sour. Obviously had to try this because of the name. 

Luxury Liner (double IPA) - Austin Beer Garden Brewing Co. (4.5)

Fresh and citrusy

Vanilla Porter (on nitro) - Breckenridge Brewery (4.25)

Fireman’s Brew Blonde Beer - Fireman’s Brew (3.75)

Hans’ Pils - Real Ale Brewing Company (4.25)

I actually liked a pilsner. 

Feral Dampf - Jester King Brewery (4)

Witbier - Community Beer Company (4.5)

Dry Hopped Berliner Weisse - Ranger Creek Brewing & Distilling (4.75)

German Sparkle Party - 10 Barrel Brewing Co. (3.75)

Meta Beer. A beer’s beer. But nothing special.

Little Gose - Blue Owl Brewing (4.25)

Tasted this at the brewery. Blue Owl can do no wrong. Delicious.

Dry Hopped Kettle Sour - Hops & Grain Brewing (3.75)

Love Street - Karbach Brewing Co. (3.5)

It should surprise no one that I wanted to try this because of The Doors.

Saíson Puede - Blue Owl Brewing (4.25)

Long Walk - 4th Tap Brewing Co-Op (4)

Had this from a keg at a party. Solid grapefruit IPA.

Funk Metal - Jester King Brewery (4.25)

Shady Oak Blonde - Branchline Brewing Co. (3.5)

Enjoyed this at a prohibition-style bar in San Antonio called The Esquire Tavern.

A month ago, I made the decision to temporarily leave Southern California. The cost of living was taking a toll on my quality of life, and I was feeling antsy.

When a friend of mine called me that she was making a move to Austin, TX, I said I was up for the adventure. ATX is a place I’ve always wanted to spend more time in, and with so many places to hike, eat and drink, it makes sense that this would be a place for me to spend a California Intermission.

I’m currently on Week 4 of this adventure, and I’ve been compiling an amateur list of the best beers, burgers, tacos and outdoor activities that I’m really excited to begin sharing here.

Are y’all ready? The ATXperience begins NOW.

For the third time in just 2.5 years, I found myself packing all of my belongings into my sedan, which I had already begun referring to as a “German caravan.” It was definitely really challenging to get everything into the vehicle this time around, and I ultimately left a few items that would be useful for the next tenant and donated a few others. The morning the car was packed, I began my journey.

11-12 hours of driving got me across the California-Arizona border, shot me eastward through Northern AZ, past the New Mexico border and finally into Albuquerque. The changing landscapes were incredible to watch as the pavement rolled on beneath my tires. Flagstaff, AZ was actually still cold enough that there was snow on the ground, and the transition from desert hills and mountains to pine trees and forests seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. The few hours through New Mexico also brought freezing rain (!) and spurts of torrential downpour.

It was in Albuquerque that I met up with my friend, who was driving from Vegas, and we stopped for New Mexican cuisine at Frontier Restaurant, recommended to us by locals. The sleep deprivation and weariness of driving began to creep up on me, but I still enjoyed the hell out of a cinnamon roll (split between friends) and a vegetarian burrito.

We ended up crashing at the Andaluz Hotel, a beautiful property in downtown Albuquerque built in 1939. The concierge also happened to mention that one or two of the floors might be haunted, which was way cooler once we were reassured that our room was not on one of them. #idontfuxwitnoghosts

Come morning, we were on the road again, stopping only for gas and food. This second leg of the trip was by far the most difficult, with the scenery being pretty mundane and redundant. We also hit a lot of stormy weather during the last stretch through Texas, making it extra difficult to power through the 12+ hour drive. However, once within Austin city limits, the excitement of the homestretch prevailed.

Waking up in Austin meant waking up to chai tea at Brew & Brew followed by pretzels and beer at Easy Tiger. Falling asleep in Austin meant heading to the lake to watch the sunset and crashing after pies and drafts at Pinthouse Pizza. Everything was familiar, but still, everything was new and different. For the first time, I was exploring the city with one of my closest friends, and we were enjoying the best of ATX together.

The first week involved plenty of local beers (Little Boss and Professor Black by Blue Owl being two of my favorites), and lots of outdoor activities on the water. Kayaking and paddle boarding along Lady Bird Lake were definite highlights, and the excessive rain meant the Greenbelt had filled enough that we were able to go tubing with my favorite adventurous pup and some beers.

At both Lady Bird Lake and the Greenbelt, sea turtles and fish can be found in the water, which due to the rain, was a little murkier than usual. Both watering holes are usually a very pretty blue-green without excessive rainfall.

Another bonus to the rain was the beautiful cascade at Hamilton Pool. While this natural pool that formed due to erosion is a hot spot for both tourists and locals year-round, during times of drought or drier seasons, the waterfall can slow to nearly a trickle. Laying out by Hamilton Pool is hardly like laying out by the beach, due to the steep, rocky banks that make it difficult to get comfortable without layering a blanket under your towel. Much like a beach, however, it gets incredibly crowded. Park officials have tried to combat this by making visits to the pool during the most popular months reservation-only and limiting the time visitors can spend there.

Warm enough to not be a shock but cool enough to provide relief from the hot Texas sun, Hamilton Pool is a beautiful place to visit and relish the great outdoors.

On the way back to Austin from Hamilton Pool are Pieous, a local favorite pizza place and Jester King, one of the best breweries in Texas.

Pieous is named for its pizza, but rivaled in notoriety is the pastrami, which all but melts like butter in the mouth of a hungry customer. Because I believe the best way to assess the quality of a pizza is by going simple, I went with a Margherita pizza in addition to a side of pastrami. The Neapolitan style pizza was phenomenal, with the sauce, cheese, crust and basil all being delicious. Baked for 90 glorious seconds, this pie is a winner. The pastrami, too, was well worth the hype. Friendly staff and a drool-worthy selection of desserts make this place a must-visit, but beware of intimidating lines during times of high traffic.

Hidden behind dirt roads and making its home a renovated barn, Jester King is an Austin brewery that embraces its rustic, Hill Country vibe. Surrounded by farmland and farm animals, the quirkiness of the place lends itself to friends gathering at outdoor seating at picnic tables with a socialization aspect similar to a beer garden. It’s easy to talk to and meet new people and bond over craft beer and the perks of spending weekends in Austin.

Released the weekend I was there was the 2016 Hibernal Dichotomous. Brewed with tea and rosemary, this dark sour has an abundance of flavor and while sour, it was not overpowering. I definitely wasn’t hit hard by rosemary flavor, but there were certainly herbal notes in the spectrum of flavor, even if they were subtle.

Boxer’s Revenge is hands down one of the best sours I’ve ever had. With powerful flavor like a Belgian that balances out the sour immaculately, this could easily be a “gateway sour” for anyone who has yet to hop onto the bitter bandwagon.

As the evening was winding down, the rain clouds returned, sending craft beer enthusiasts running to take cover (if for nothing other than to avoid “contaminating” the beer.)

After fawning over the Jester King brews, I figured they were certainly worth bringing “home” to my temporary home base in ATX—for [another] rainy day.

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

Alessandra

I love San Diego.

Every time I visit, I’m impressed by the food, beer, ocean views, friendly locals and Utopian temperatures.

While it might already be transparent, it’s worth reiterating that I have a hard time turning down opportunities to attend San Diego beer festivals.

I recently experienced Best Coast Beer Fest for the first time. Featuring an incredibly extensive and impressive list of attending brewers, the available samples left very little to be desired. Purchasing only a GA ticket for the 1-4pm time slot, I was pretty pleased with the selection without being completely overwhelmed by booth queues.

The line for festival entry, however, was a disaster. I waited for nearly an hour to get in, and the festival, realizing how unfortunate the wait was, extended the session until 4:30pm to compensate for what was admittedly a “gnarly” line.

Located at the Embarcadero Marina Park, the backdrop of the ocean, sailboats and high rises felt like a lush getaway. With plenty of food trucks to feed hungry beer drinkers, the overall experience was decadent.

I usually try to take my time at beer sampling events, but this go around, I wanted to make it a point to taste as many as I could. There were brewers from all over the U.S., and even some international ones, as well. Unsurprisingly, my taste buds were pretty much shot by the time security was escorting all the buzzed stragglers towards the exit.

While it didn’t take long to return to San Diego County after the festival buzz had worn off, this time, the ticket in my hand was for a concert.

Unsurprisingly, I also took advantage and made a trip while in town to SoCal’s famous Pizza Port for beer and a pie. 

Lord Huron is one of my favorite artists, so after realizing the show had sold out by the time I found out about it, I was more than happy to pay the inflated StubHub price for their show at Belly Up in Solana Beach. 

I’ve mentioned my love for Lord Huron and the band’s solidified spot on my wanderer’s playlist previously, but as a writer, I feel compelled to pay my respects to Ben Schneider’s lyrics, story telling and creativity.

Sonically, both of Lord Huron’s albums have the ability to transport you as a listener to another world while making your own appear more beautiful.

As a lyricist, frontman Ben Schneider paints a world where characters meet, intersect and part. He imagines a world that’s as vividly detailed as a novel, with dynamic protagonists and characters. The words are vulnerable, honest and sincere.

Even with a number of people ahead of me waiting to enter the venue, I was able to get just a foot from the stage for the duration of the show.

The most compelling reason to see Lord Huron live is to experience the magic first-hand. It’s not a show where instruments are smashed or anyone is running around the stage histrionically. All the emotions are real, raw and other worldly. It’s a cosmic experience that draws you in, no backup dancers or dramatic special effects necessary.

Lord Huron’s two albums, Lonesome Dreams and Strange Trails, have been the soundtrack to many of my adventures and experiences over the past two and a half years. I listen to the albums and immediately able to recall drives to Big Sur, moves up and down the coast, visits to the desert and everything in between.

It’s so rare to find an artist today that has a unique vantage point and creates art rather than the trite, lifeless vanity overwhelming the radio waves today. Lord Huron is a much-needed breath of fresh air to the world of music, and there’s no stopping the brilliant mind and creativity of Ben Schneider.

Until next time.

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

Alessandra

Complete Beer List from Best Coast Beer Fest:

-Irish Lullaby - Amplified Ale Works (3.75/5)

-Cappuccino Stout - Lagunitas Brewing (3.5)

-Raspberry Hibiscus Hefeweizen - La Jolla Brewing Company (4.5)

-Icelandic White Ale - Einstök Ölgero (4.5)

-Mangö - Clown Shoes (4)

-Cherry Hard Cider - Washington Gold Cider (3.25)

-Moose Drool Brown Ale - Big Sky Brewing Company (3.5)

-Golden Chaos - Bootlegger’s Brewery (3.75)

-Fortune Teller : Mosaic - Wiens Brewing (3.75)

-Angel’s Share Bourbon Barrel-Aged - The Lost Abbey (3.75)

-Apricot Wheat - Kensington Brewing Company (4.75)

-Spiked Root Beer - On The Tracks Brewery (4.25)

-Corvo Negro - Novo Brazil Brewing Co. (3.75)

-Export Helles - Gordon Biersch Brewery (3)

-Chronic Amber Ale - Pizza Port Brewing Co. (4)

-Blood Orange Wit - Refuge Brewery (4)

-Berry White - Altamont Beer Works (4.25)

-Peyote Pale Ale - Baja Brewing Company (4.25)

-Blonde - Cabotella (4.25)

//

@ Pizza Port Solana Beach

It comes as a surprise to most people that up until recently, I had never been to Vegas.

As a beer drinker who stays far away from the club scene and would rather wear combat boots than stilettos, there’s just never been much enticement for me to “Do Vegas.”

However, when a friend of mine moved out to Sin City, it was time to make the adventure happen.

With my carryon packed for a weekend of hikes and chilling hard, I made my way from LAX to LAS. The flying time was impressively quick, leaving me with plenty of energy to catch up with my good friend upon landing.

Being that this was my first trip to Vegas, Day One involved a drive through The Strip and a stop inside The Cosmopolitan for window shopping, people watching and grabbing dinner from “Secret Pizza.” A spot notorious for having no signage, no name and being hidden, this pizza joint had fantastic slices that were only rivaled by the dessert we enjoyed at Serendipity just a short walk away. (Red velvet cake, FTW.)

My next few days were the ideal anti-Vegas, Vegas experience. We devoured all you can eat sushi for dinner, hit the pool, fit in a few workouts and spent the nights reading and talking. Catching the sunset from the High Roller was incredible, as we watched the evening sky turn the mountains indigo and purple as the clouds danced in shades of cotton candy pink, orange and blue.

A short drive outside the city is Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area. With its beautiful namesake red rocks that remind me of Arizona, it’s a gorgeous landscape to enjoy a hike in pleasant weather conditions.

On our Red Rock visit, we ended up selecting a hike that led to a small waterfall trickling from atop a cliff. Seeing water in the desert is always striking to me—a rare luxury in an ecosystem that has acclimated to extreme conditions of deprivation. An overabundance of sun countered with a lack of water creates a “survival of the fittest” challenge that tests all living things, flora and fauna alike, to adapt.

Hikes have become one of my favorite parts of my West Coast life. Reconnecting with nature in places that are largely untouched by humans is really special, and it always makes me feel like I’m becoming more in tune with the core of my being.

Another quick drive and a pit stop at Yard House for edible sustenance, and we were back to urban life.

In Downtown Vegas was the greatest gem of my city experience: Banger Brewing, only two years old, has a phenomenal craft beer selection with knowledgeable bartenders and a small, intimate atmosphere.

Of the house beers, I tried a flight of El Heffe (jalapeño hefeweizen), Miley Sours (kettle sour brown), Hop Bang Boom (imperial IPA),  and Barrel Aged Knight Ryeder (imperial stout aged in bourbon barrels.) Additionally, I sampled Morning Joe, a coffee kolsch.

While I expected El Heffe (4.25/5) to be spicy, it was actually pretty mild. However, it was still an enjoyable beer that I’d be happy to have again.

Hop Bang Boom (4) was wonderful, and my favorite hoppy beer as of late despite not being as partial to them recently.

Miley Sours (4.25) proved to be a solid sour. Nothing too over the top, and great overall.

The Bourbon Barrel Aged Knight Ryeder (4.75) was the perfect beer for a whiskey lover. Hell of a way to bring the two worlds together. Heart eyes all around.

Perhaps the greatest surprise of the night was Morning Joe (4.75), which had a light, golden color and had a taste reminiscent of a light coffee with vanilla and hazelnut. I’m not sure how many I’d be able to drink, but it’s a fantastic beer that I’d be stoked to order any time I’m fortunate enough to encounter it again.

It’s exciting to see that Sin City has a blossoming craft beer scene, especially given the rapid growth of the area. While I’m not one to end up at a strip club or go to any club, for that matter, I would absolutely return to Vegas to explore more of the breweries and hopefully hit up a pool once the weather gets a bit warmer.

I see the appeal to Vegas the same way that I understand the allure to Hollywood—glitz, glamour, the enticement of fortune and wealth… It’s all a façade, but to many, it’s very convincing at first.

Much like Hollywood, Vegas is a place where people come with a suitcase packed of their best clothes and the hope of rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. They travel great distances to see a small city that glitters and beckons with colored neon lights in the middle of the vast desert.  

It’s strange to watch the people on The Strip; they all have different stories, but they’ve all taken the time off of work and away from their “real lives” to entertain a weekend or a few days of the Vegas high life. They come star struck and wide-eyed, tending to leave exhausted, partied out, and often with leaner pockets—unless against all odds, they’ve gotten lucky at the casino.

Unlike Hollywood and the rest of LA County, there are parts of Vegas with “breathing room.” Because Las Vegas is such a small city, there is a lot of undeveloped land in the surrounding areas, although new construction would suggest that might not remain the case for long.

Regardless, the overall cost of living is low. Gas is inexpensive (below two dollars while I was there), rent is cheap and the new complexes popping up offer a plethora of amenities for a reasonable price that compared to California or New York equate to an obvious bargain.

Interestingly enough, I have one to two more trips to Vegas planned for the year—one to see friends who will be in town, and the other to see one of my favorite bands live.

I’m excited to know that Vegas still offers an great experience for a non-club goer like myself, and I’m looking forward to uncovering more of the heavenly layers in Sin City—preferably with a pint in hand.

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

Happy [Belated] Wanderhops Wednesday! (Soo many Internet connectivity problems last night.)

Currently, I am packing for my next adventure! While I’m all kindsa stoked to explore a new city in just a few days, it only makes sense to recap some of my favorite beers of the month, nearly all of which happen to be from Southern California.

Ballast Point’s Watermelon Dorado was a nice surprise. It’s a strong beer with a kick of watermelon. While not as refreshing or tasty as some of the other watermelon beers I’ve had (21st Amendment’s Hell or High Watermelon Wheat is one of the best), this one was great considering the high ABV (10%, Double IPA.)

Naturally swindled by the name, I picked up Monkish Brewing Co.’s Feminist, which grew on me with every sip. I wasn’t that excited about it at first (especially given its price point), but gradually, the hibiscus and spices seemed to open up even more and definitely won me over. Gotta love a solid Belgian-style Tripel!

While I didn’t manage to get a photo (I enjoyed drinking it entirely too much), Green Flash Brewing’s Passion Fruit Kicker is perhaps one of my new favorites. Not too sweet with just the right amount of passion fruit flavor makes this wheat beer one you can drink all night. Because I’m Puerto Rican, I’m a total sucker for things that genuinely taste like passion fruit. Definitely going to make beer a staple!

Gypsy Tart courtesy of Bruery Terreux was exactly what it promised to be: malty and well-balanced. The kind of sour you can enjoy even without fried food palate-prepping. Is there such thing as an “any time sour”? Because this is an any time sour.  

Speaking of sours... I was finally reunited with Omer Vander Ghinste Brewery -VanderGhinste Oud Bruin. A sour with enough flavors to keep you sipping for more, this beer offers a lot more than just a pucker. For anyone not yet on the bitter bandwagon, this brew is a great gateway sour. Forever one of my favorites! 

In a few days, I’m off to visit a friend in her new city--Las Vegas! Discovering that there are plenty of breweries in Sin City was most excellent, so be sure to check out Wanderhops on Instagram for live updates. :)

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

There are plenty of ups and downs to living in the LA area. The biggest up is the location in terms of weather, the beach and close proximity to a never-ending list of incredible places to visit and things to do.

Recently, I decided to finally check off something that had been on my LA bucket list for too long by paying a visit to the Melrose Trading Post.

Located in the Fairfax/West Hollywood area, this slightly upscale flea market provides visitors the opportunity to ogle original artwork, handcrafted furniture, vintage clothing, succulents and more.

After purchasing crystals, candles and a cute clutch, I enjoyed a fruity beverage and sauntered through one last time in the 75-degree weather just to take it all in again.

The people watching here is pretty fantastic, with both tourists and locals crossing paths with their unique fashions that often range from hipster to eclectic, and international looks in the mix, as well. Whether you have just an hour to spend or a whole day, there’s no shortage of entertainment from browsing the various booths to socializing, live music and even a food court. MTP definitely makes for a solid Sunday with its buzzing energy.

Upon my departure, I decided to head north and west to a spot I’ve wanted to visit for years—the Jim Morrison Cave.

A windy drive on a narrow road takes you from Pacific Coast Highway and Malibu’s cliffs to the Agoura Hills, and a short hike will eventually lead you to the cave, which is just off trail.

As the story goes, this cave was a spot that Jim Morrison would visit as a retreat from the city, and he would take drugs or write and paint the walls with lyrics and imagery.

Since then, the cave has been painted and repainted over and over with various graffiti. Not long ago, someone actually coated almost the entire cave with a Pepto Bismol shade of pink, which has since been covered with other colorful images. The pink is still pretty prevalent as a background, which has irked many of those who appreciate this spot for its history.

A skull in the cave’s floor is rumored to have been carved by Jim himself, possibly while he was under the influence.

As a huge fan of rock and roll, and particularly Jim Morrison, I had wanted to make this trek for a long time, and it was a really special experience to finally experience it.

Getting in my car just before sunset, I pulled over at the bottom of the road with a view of the Pacific to watch the sunset. Watching daylight burn in a fiery blaze and fade over the ocean currents is a sight that I will never tire of.  

California can be a shallow bitch, but damnit if she’s not beautiful.

Cheers to La Vida Bohemia,

Alessandra

Wanderhops Beer List:

·      Not Your Father’s Ginger Ale – Small Town Brewery (4.5/5)

This certainly measures up with its counterpart, Not Your Father’s Root Beer. Huge fan!

·      Beer Geek Cocoa Shake – Mikkeller (4.5)

Fantastic. Not something you could drink all night, but I’d rather have this than dessert—ideally with it, though.

·      Chocolate Sombrero – Clown Shoes (4.5)

Just a little spicy and the chocolate notes shine through. So damn good.

·      Samuel Adams Kosmic Mother Funk – Boston Beer Company (4.25)

Delicious sour. Never would have guessed this was a Sam Adams beer. Dayum.

·      Baciami Lipsia – Birrificio Del Ducato (4.25)

Tart and clean at the same time. I dig. Super easy to drink!

·      Peppermint Victory at Sea – Ballast Point Brewing (4.25)

I am normally not a big fan of porters, but this is a very good beer. The coffee and chocolate notes were more prevalent than the peppermint, in my opinion.

Chocolate Sombrero