Pioneertown

Laura Sanderson Healy reports on a 'pioneering' road trip in the California desert with Mama Jane and nephew Benjamin

Looking over the photographs I took on a recent trip to the former Western movie set called Pioneertown, California, I realize it is the perfect No Crowds destination if you happen to be visiting either the stunning Joshua Tree National Park in the High Desert or the well-attended Palm Springs and its neighboring desert city resorts. Pioneertown is the perfect antidote whether you’ve been hiking, pool lounging or hitting the parterres of the El Paseo shops in Palm Desert.

There was nobody around the “Mane Street” when we visited, though a few storefronts were open (a pottery, a saddle store) and a lone horse stared at us from his dusty paddock. You can swing through saloon doors while admiring the Ghost Town effect of it all. Pioneertown was built in 1946 and Roy Rogers and Gene Autry were among its investors; both movies and television shows were shot here, where the authentic homes were lived in by actors. There are 350 residents today and there is a tiny post office on the unpaved street, selling Stars of the West stamps.

The real draw of this off the beaten track locale is Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace, a vibrant bar/restaurant/music club founded in 1982 that boasts a talent list from the Arctic Monkies to Vampire Weekend to Gram Rabbit:. I was bound and determined to make a pilgrimage to this indie rock paradise, even if just for lunch, which proved to be delicious (barbecued pork sandwich plate and a Sioux City Sarsparilla soft drink).  Pappy and Harriet’s location was once a façade for a cantina when filming was going on, and after that, according to its website, it served as an “outlaw biker burrito bar” until it was closed down.

My fellow travelers were my 86 year old mother and my 7 year old nephew, and we had a fine time playing pool in the saloon at Pappy and Harriet’s and promenading down the street. Things really get popping when they have festival days, but that might be a bit crowded.

To reach Pioneertown, take Pioneertown Road at California State Route 62 in the town of Yucca Valley and go four miles until you reach Pappy and Harriet’s. You’ll be traveling a meandering California Scenic Drive past cactus and tumbleweed.

http://www.pappyandharriets.com/

Exploring Jurassic Life in LA

Laura Sanderson Healy, writer, reporter and friend describes a visit to LA's Museum of Jurassic Technology.

Tourists in Los Angeles herd like mustangs to Hollywood Boulevard to stamp across the stars embedded in its “walk of fame” (“Rudolf Valentino looks very much alive / as he looks up ladies’ dresses as they sadly pass him by” – The Kinks’ Celluloid Heroes). Cinemas still show movies there in the restored American Picture Palaces the El Capitan, The Egyptian Theater and Grauman’s Chinese Theater (I Love Lucy featured its collection of movie actors’ foot and hand prints). Aside from the prowling mad and bad, there is the wax village of Madame Tussauds Hollywood and “Ripley’s Believe it or Not’s odditorium to tempt those who wish to part with their dollars.

I have attended several fun film premieres with my family here. I have braved the day-to-day scrum of gawkers when I am of the mood to be hospitable to guests who wish to partake of this famous but people-choked strip. When a more discerning, curiousity-craving friend visited L.A. this spring, however, I led her by the magnifying glass to the Museum of Jurassic Technology, far from Hollywood in Culver City. Known officially as the “heart of screenland” (it’s on their recycling and garbage bins), Culver City is the locale where my most favorite comedies were produced – the Our Gang and Little Rascals films of the Hal Roach studio, the Marx Brothers’ A DAY AT THE RACES and A NIGHT AT THE OPERA on the M.G.M. lot that now houses Sony Pictures, and I Love Lucy at Desilu, now The Culver Studios.

My friend and I visited the MJT  (http://www.mjt.org/), located at 9341 Venice Boulevard, and it completely blew her mind. It’s a real “cabinet of curiosities,” some real, some not. It’s for you to discover which is which, and there is a book “Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonder” dedicated to the place David Wilson and his wife created in the ‘90s. “The Museum of Jurassic Technology in Los Angeles California is an educational institution dedicated to the advancement of knowledge and the public appreciation of the Lower Jurassic … it provides the academic community with a specialized repository of relics and artifacts … with an emphasis on those that demonstrate unusual or curious technological qualities and serves the general public by providing the visitor a hands-on experience of “life in the Jurassic.”

One can look at a grain of rice that is carved and decorated to resemble Pope John Paul II, or learn what “halcyon days” refers to, with an exhibit of kingfishers’ eggs. The dark rooms feature all manner of projection and lighting and audio displays that highlights oodles of information about the strangest things. It is a temple to the weird, and there is a library within where one can study why Mayans had that sacrifice thing going or why animals can be so fascinating.

The museum is right next to the famous hamburger eatery “In-N-Out” and near the reborn Culver City pedestrian district where arts and restaurants make it a veritable toytown to those who want to have fun.  

Image courtesy of the Smithsonian Magazine 

Missing Venice

“Venice misses you already! crossing our fingers that we make the blog...”

Facebook wall post from Amy

Well, Amy, you are right. No Crowds should cover Venice, a district on the Westside of Los Angeles, California because it is super fun and surprisingly charming. Who knew? Tourists know about the circus-like Boardwalk and Muscle Beach. We go to see the freaks and the show. But most of us don’t know about the absolutely lovely Venice Canal Historic District (pictured above) or the delightful walk streets. We don't know that in this part of Los Angeles you can walk or bike almost anywhere.

Sadly, I haven’t a clue where you would stay in Venice because I stayed at Amy’s but I did eat a fantastic, albeit expensive, meal at the Tasting Kitchen on Abbot Kinney Boulevard. Drank a lot of good coffee there too. Mostly, I just walked around, enjoying the laid back vibe, peeking into peoples homes and gardens and imaging a different life.

And yes, Amy, I miss Venice too.

Photo credit: Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Venice_Canal_District,_Los_Angeles,_2008_02.JPG 

North by No Crowds: Adventures off California's Highways

Road Trip. In America, those are magic words. The open road is the American Dream. You can go where you want, when you want, how you want. It’s up to you. You make it happen. To experience America, take a road trip. For the ultimate road trip, make it Highway 1. Here’s what we had to say about this fabled road in 2008:

“There is a saying that a well-loved child has many names. The same can be said about one of America’s best loved highways, State Route 1 in California, aka Highway 1 or Pacific Coast Highway or, as locals call it, the PCH. No matter what it is called, this 655 mile stretch of tarmac, which starts south of Los Angeles in Orange County and ends north of San Francisco in Mendocino County, is the most beautiful, dramatic and inspiring coastline in the United States. That’s a bold statement but I doubt anyone who has driven this road will argue.”

Having already done the LA to San Francisco stretch of the PCH, we were eager to tackle the road north of San Francisco all the way to the Redwood State and National Parks. It’s an area known for spectacular scenery, good food, offbeat residents and no crowds. That sounded pretty good to us, a travelling trio consisting of my husband, our 12-year old-daughter and me.

We had rented a cheap little car (save where you can) but Hertz saw fit to give us a grand luxury coupe. Thanks. This Super Cruiser was way too cool for us. It took 30 minutes and both of us reading the manual just to get it started, but, having gotten over that hurdle, it was smooth sailing – and super fun driving.

We had been warned that some stretches of the PCH north of San Francisco could be both tedious and treacherous so we modified our original idea of a stately drive north. Instead, we raced north on Highway 101 for 5 ½ hours to Trinidad, just south of the Redwood National Park and then spent 5 leisurely days meandering back south. We travelled along the Avenue of the Giants – a 32-mile, 2 lane road under the canopy of the Redwoods, the PCH from Leggett to Albion and then Route 128 through Sonoma wine country to Healdsburg and back on 101 to San Francisco.

The Redwood Coast

Much has been said about the experience of standing under trees that soar 300 feet in the sky that predate the Roman Empire. Muir Woods, an old-growth coastal redwood forest 12 miles outside San Francisco is what most people get to see. It’s a wonderful place but you have to fight for a parking space and share the grandeur with busloads of tourists.

In the Redwood National and State Parks, on the other hand, you can see these wonders of nature in complete solitude. We hiked for hours without seeing anyone. Of the parks in the area, our favorite is Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park that has lots of well-marked trails, a visitor’s center, Fern Canyon and Gold Bluff Beach. We also spent a glorious afternoon at nearby Patrick’s Point State Park hiking, climbing rock formations and searching for stones on Agate Beach. The only folks we saw all afternoon were some local surfers. Pure No Crowds bliss.

To stay near the redwoods, we recommend the Lost Whale Inn in Trinidad. The setting is secluded, the views spectacular. Rooms are large and nicely appointed. The breakfast and complimentary afternoon refreshments are generous and delicious. The innkeepers were welcoming and there is something to be said about waking up each morning to the sound of barking sea lions. We were disappointed that the steps down to the inn’s private beach were closed because of damage from winter storms. The innkeepers say they are working hard to get them repaired.

Heading south from Trinidad, we spent an interesting evening in Arcata, long considered Northern California’s (and therefore America’s) most progressive town. It’s part college town, part Cheech and Chong installation and here’s a factoid I just love about the place. Back in 2003, Arcata’s City Council voted to outlaw compliance with the US Patriot Act. Way to go Arcata! If you like Japanese food, Tomo, located in the Arcata Hotel on the plaza serves very good sushi.

We also spent a pleasant afternoon wandering around Ferndale, a wonderfully preserved Victorian village. There are lots of charming houses and some fun galleries and shops. We loved visiting the Blacksmith Shop and Gallery, established in 1979 by Joe Koches, whose goal is to offer the public “the finest collection of master blacksmithing in the U.S.” It’s not stuff that easily fits in your carry on but the shop is happy to ship and the items are beautiful.

The Mendocino Coast

After an impressive drive through the redwoods on the Avenue of the Giants and a spectacular stretch of the PCH, we arrived in Mendocino. The place reminded us of the island of Nantucket in Massachusetts and no wonder, transported New Englanders built it. Filled with saltbox cottages and rose covered picket fences, the town exudes picturesque charm but like Nantucket, is a victim of its own success with high prices and too many shops hawking t-shirts. But with that said, we loved the atmosphere and particularly loved rambling along the dramatic 2-mile stretch of sea cliffs that surround the town.

In Mendocino, we stayed at the Alegria Inn that has an ideal, quiet location overlooking the ocean with private beach access. Because we were travelling with Eloise, we stayed in one of their cottages that had a fold out futon. It also had a wood burning stove, a well-equipped kitchen, a funky Japanese tub and a double bed in a loft. I have to say that I wasn’t crazy about the loft (too old) but everything else, including the helpful innkeepers and excellent breakfast were first class. We also had a very good dinner at the highly rated Café Beaujolais and a tasty lunch at the Moosse Café.

The Sonoma Wine Country

Travelling through wine country with a 12 year old poses a dilemma. As Eloise was neither old enough to drink the wine nor act as the designated driver, we felt it necessary to temper our alcoholic aspirations. Still, it would have been a shame to be so close and not take the opportunity to dip into the world famous California wine scene. Plus, we had heard from lots of savvy travelers that Sonoma was a much more No Crowds appropriate experience compared to Napa – less chi chi and more relaxed.

We ended up heading for Healdsburg, an attractive town that sits at the center of three wine producing valleys. With over 160 wineries within easy striking distance, and a restaurant scene that is starting to give Napa Valley’s Yountsville a run for its money, we thought Healdsburg could provide something interesting for us and something fun for Eloise.

Don’t tell our dentist but the big experience for Eloise took the form of a candy shop unlike any other – except perhaps Willie Wonka’s. Powell’s Sweet Shoppe, on the square in Healdsburg, sells thousands of different kinds of candy. They have candy in there I haven’t seen since I was Eloise’s age. The shop is big fun for any child and an interesting piece of nostalgia for any American parent.

After treating Eloise to a bag of sweets to take back to school we treated ourselves to a visit to the rather glam Ferrari Carano winery, famous as much for its elaborate gardens and villa as for its wines. If the Ewing family from the 80s TV show Dallas had a winery, it would look like Ferrari Carano. Needless to say we had lots of fun.

And then sadly, it was time to head back to San Francisco. Driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, I thought about all our inspiring experiences: the magnificent redwoods, the pristine coastline, the sometimes eccentric residents and almost always excellent food and as I had in 2008, I thought how unattractive it was to be envious of your own child. But in the case of my northern Cal son, again, I just couldn’t help myself. This place is too perfect. Come see for yourself.

Photo Credit: Eloise Hedges

San Francisco: Best for Big Children

Ask my 12-year-old daughter Eloise about her recent holiday in San Francisco and she might respond with something like this:

“I slept in my brother’s bar, The Roasted Frog, where I played darts and video games all night with his friends from business school. I spent Easter Sunday at the Hunky Jesus competition run by weird guys dressed as nuns and the Bring Your Own Big Wheels Race where everyone dresses up and rides tiny bikes really fast down a really steep hill. One time we went to a garage for breakfast and another time I started the day with salted caramel ice cream. I had some fabulous burritos and went to a Pirate Store and a prison.

Now before someone calls children’s services, let me explain:

• The Roasted Frog is the bar/pub my son and his French roommate built in their apartment in the Mission, the hood that is part Latin barrio, part hipster hangout with a heavy concentration of cool stores and restaurants and reportedly the best weather in this city of microclimates. Nearby Dolores Park, on a fine evening or weekend, is a great place to hangout and watch the locals ‘do their thing’ which includes playing music, drinking, dog walking, tight rope walking, hula hooping and God-only knows-what-else.

• The Hunky Jesus competition (now in its 31^st year) is a much-loved Easter tradition run by the Sisters of Perpetual Devotion, an interesting group of drag queens dressed up as nuns. It’s weird and fun and reinforces whatever expectations you have about America’s pinkest city. Needs to be seen to be believed.

• The Bring Your Own Big Wheels Race is SF mayhem and madness at its very best. Every Easter Sunday, hundreds and hundreds of San Francisco natives ride kiddie bikes down treacherous Vermont Street in Protero. (They used to ride down Lombard Street but that got shut down) Think McQueen in Bullit on a bike. Some adventurous souls ride their rubbish bins. They come as super heroes and Easter bunnies. They crash. Their bikes fall apart. The huge crowd cheers loudest for the losers.

• Everyone should eat Bi-Rite Creamery ice cream for breakfast – it’s that good. Ditto for Tartine Bakery and Cafe (If you can’t stand to wait in line make a reservation at Bar Tartine around the corner) or Blue Bottle for Coffee or La Taqueria for burritos. In fact, the food in SF is ridiculously good almost everywhere. The best meal we had was at trendy Nopa in and old bank building in the area ‘North of the Panhandle.’

• The Pirate Store at 826 Valencia is, unsurprisingly, “San Francisco’s only independent pirate supply store.” It is filled with all kinds of treasures including great books about writing. All proceeds go towards supporting a literacy and writing skills initiative, 826 Valnecia, started by writer, editor and publisher, Dave Eggers.

• Even San Francisco natives who scorn most of city’s tourist attractions love Alcatraz Island. A visit to the once notorious prison includes a scenic ferry ride, and a chilling self-guided audio tour where stories of crime and punishment are brilliantly retold. Booking ahead is essential - expect crowds – but the experience is worth it. Also crowded but worth it was the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park.

Actually, everything we did in San Francisco was “worth it” - and loads of fun. My oldest son, the San Francisco resident, put it this way.

“Mom, this is a city for Big Children."

He meant it as a compliment. I think his point was that in this American city of unique neighborhoods, spectacular views, wonderful food (not to mention a comprehensive public transport system and health access for all) you can grow up but you don’t have to grow old.

We’ll be back.

Photo Credit: Eloise Hedges

Idea Credit: Leland Hedges

The Blue Bottle Coffee Company

Bring me food. No matter what it is or where it comes from, I love receiving food from foreign lands. If I’m not on the road, then the next best thing is for the food of the road to come to me.

Recently, my son brought me coffee from the Blue Bottle Coffee Company in Oakland, California. Mom, this product takes coffee to a whole new level.

He was right.

The coffee has a vivid, romantic aroma. The taste is rich and elegant and a million miles away from Starbucks fare. The Blue Bottle Coffee Company, a quintessential Bay area concern, is small, hip and totally radical about what it does. - taking “freshness and small batch roasting to an extreme not considered practical anywhere else in the coffee business.”

And now comes my favourite part. So where did the Blue Bottle look for inspiration when setting up the company? Seventeenth century Vienna. The story goes that during the siege, Franz George Kolshitsky, an Austrian who spoke Turkish and Arabic, was sent through enemy lines to deliver messages to the nearby Polish army who later helped rescue the city. The fleeing Turks left everything behind: camels, tents, honey and strange bags of beans thought to be camel fodder. Kolshitsky, having lived in the arab world, knew better, taking the 500 sacks of beans as a reward for his heroism. He then opened Central Europe’s first coffee house, the Blue Bottle and started the Austrian craze for coffee.

So here I am in my London kitchen, drinking Blue Bottle Coffee while dreaming of both foodie San Francisco and coffee house Vienna and while Blue Bottle in London is pretty fantastic, if you are in the Bay Area, you can experience ‘the real thing’ at their kiosk in San Francisco’s Hayes Valley at 315 Linden Street or at their café at 66 Mint Street at the corner of Jessie. If you live in the United States, Blue Bottle will ship you some beans and you can check out their on-line store here.

Otherwise, it pays to have a nice, San Francisco based son.

48 Hours in Berkeley or Why I Envy my Son

At last, we arrived in Berkeley. I was beside myself with excitement but filled with questions. America’s epicentre of student radicalism looms large in the imagination of anyone raised in 1960s America. This was the home of the Free Speech Movement and a place where students had put their careers on the line to fight for civil liberties. But what would it be like in post 9/11 America, where would Berkeley now come down on the civil liberties versus national security debate and what would Eloise make of it all.

In every way, Berkeley exceeded expectations. Eloise’s expectations were simple. She just wanted to hang out with her brother and so we did. He proudly gave us a tour of the beautiful University, where Nobel prize winners are so numerous that they have their own parking spaces. He drove us around the lovely Berkeley hills. We watched him play a spirited match of Ultimate Frisbee. Eloise attended a Game Theory class at the Haas School of Business and to the surprise of the other students, launched herself into a discussion of Red Bull marketing. While this was going on, I attended a presentation by Matt Kistler, SVP for Sustainability at Wal-Mart. Although Kistler convinced me that Wal-Mart was paying serious attention to the environment, I still had trouble connecting his remarks to my experience as a Wal-Mart customer. Nevertheless, I valued the fact that Berkeley had organised the debate, that Kistler had agreed to speak and that I was allowed to attend.

As part of Eloise’s sentimental education, we paid a visit to the activists who set up shop daily on the campus’s Sproul Plaza. At the time, Free Tibet was the hot topic. We also had a lengthy discussion with a young woman named “Citizen” who was handling communications for the Memorial Oak Grove Tree Sit, a group that has been living for over a year in trees which the University would like to cut down to build a sports center. Eloise suggested that we throw some food into the trees for the campaigners but Citizen said we should join the Sunday gathering of grandmothers who were resupplying the treesitters. Otherwise, we might get arrested. Of course, there are always two sides to every story and the counter-argument to Citizens position was well articulated in an open letter sent to all students by the UC Berkeley police chief. If you’re interested, you can read the letter here. Eloise and her brother (who supports the University and as a Native American studies major in college, claims that the Indian burial ground argument is rubbish) had lively debates about the issue.

In addition to the treesitters, we also made a point of visiting the Code Pink:Women for Peace (aka the Pink Ladies) campout in front of the Marine Recruiting Office which was also attended by a large contingent of Berkeley police and a group who opposed the Pink Ladies waving American flags. This time, Eloise felt the police presence was out of proportion to the threat posed by the singing women in pink outfits and we had another discussion about civil liberties, free speech and national security. I was really happy that Eloise had a chance to see an American city that was so engaged in debating the big issues of the day. She takes so much flack in Europe for her American heritage. The next time she is accused of coming from a country of apathetic ignoramuses who don’t care about the rest of the world, she can respond, “I have been to Berkeley and I know better.”

But our stay in Berkeley was not all protestors and politics. It was also about the pleasures of an interesting hotel, fabulous food, and the great outdoors. While in Berkeley, we stayed at the historic landmark hotel, the Berkeley City Club which was built by Hearst Castle architect, Julia Morgan, for a woman’s organization dedicated to fostering social, civic and cultural progress. Much of Morgan’s signature style, used to such great effect at Hearst Castle, such as the gorgeous 1930s swimming pools and the flamboyant Moorish Gothic architecture, can also be found in this wonderful club and hotel in Berkeley. The hotel rooms are comfortable, paying tribute to the club’s genteel antecedents and feeling much like a very nice bedroom at your granny’s. Rooms look out over either the San Francisco Bay or the Berkeley hills. Staff is appealingly eccentric. Arriving back late one evening, the desk clerk used us as an impromptu focus group to critique the cover of his new 1980s disco compilation CD. The City Club’s location, a block away from the UC Berkely campus and a few minutes walk from the BART rapid transport system, couldn’t be better. For all of this we paid $125 a night for our room with breakfast included which I felt was good value given that we were staying in a fantastic bit of history in such a great location.

As for food, eating in Berkeley is like dying and going to heaven. Starting with Peets, the cult-like purveyor of coffee and tea on the corner of Walnut and Vine, to the nearby Cheese Board and Pizza Collectives (no boss, no manager, no non-owner worker) which serves some of the best tasting cheese, bread and pizza found anywhere in the United States, to the small restaurant across the street, Chez Panisse, which single headedly created a philosophy of food that changed the way America eats, this is a city which cares passionately about what it eats.

During our stay we ate at a remarkable delicatessen called Saul’s that could give Katz’s Delicatessen in New York a run for its money. The pastrami sandwich brought tears of homesickness to my eyes. Our dinner at the Chez Panisse Café, was everything I hoped it would be. We loved the lively informality of the Café, which looked like more fun than the shrine-like restaurant to “Saint Alice” downstairs. We had asparagus with lemon, ricotta and herbs, halibut with leeks, turnips, potatoes and romesco sauce, duck braised with artichokes and rosemary and polenta and Lee chowed down on a large piece of rib-eye roast with potatoes, spinach and anchovy butter. Prices were fair with starters ranging from $7.50 to $14 and mains from $17 to $28. There was even a 3 course prix fixe for $28 which looked good.

We also had a fabulous pizza lunch with root beer from the Cheeseboard Pizza Collective sitting, in clear defiance of the law on the grass median right in the middle of Shattuck Avenue, just like everyone else.

On top of all the amazing places to eat in Berkeley, the city also has one of the coolest owner/operator grocery stores in America. If you want to see what Whole Foods was like before it went the way of ‘big organic’, head for the 40,000 square foot Berkeley Bowl, located about one mile south of downtown Berkeley. The produce aisles will blow your mind. There’s an aisle as long as a football field devoted just to citrus, another just for mushrooms. People from all walks of life and income levels were in there shopping up a storm. Prices were fair and the quality and selection was extraordinary. This may sound silly but I found this grocery store very inspiring. Every American deserves to eat better and owner/operated businesses deserve to succeed. I thought the Berkeley Bowl pointed the way to how both those goals could be achieved.

In addition to the incredible food, another thing that blew our minds during our stay was a trip to visit the coastal redwoods in the Muir Woods National Monument. Just 12 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge, this is the sole remaining stand of old growth redwoods trees in the Bay Area and one of the last on the planet. It’s a heavily visited place but you can easily get away from the crowds by taking one of the many trails leading out of the valley. And its more than worth the effort. There is something about these awe inspiring, ancient trees, some more than 1,000 years old towering more than 250 feet above your head, that puts your place in the universe into sharper perspective. After communing with the majestic trees, we headed for the Marin Headlands, which, along with Muir Woods, is part of a 75,398 acre Golden Gate National Recreation Area. Seeing so much magnificent (and valuable) land saved from development, stretching for miles along the Pacific Ocean within spitting distance of San Francisco, was also an inspiring experience. As we drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, I had the thought that being envious of your own child was unattractive and un-maternal, but in the case of my Bay area son, I couldn’t help myself. This place is just too perfect. Come see for yourself.

Useful Addresses

Berkeley City Club
2315 Durant Avenue
Tel: 510 848 7800
Fax 510 848 5900
http://www.berkeleycityclub.com/

Peets Coffee & Tea
2124 Vine Street
516 841 0564
http://www.peets.com/

The Cheese Board Collective
Bread and cheese: 1504 Shattuck Ave
510 549 3183
Pizza: 1512 Shattuck Ave
510 549 3055
http://www.cheeseboardcollective.coop/

Chez Panisse Restaurant and Café
1517 Shattuck Avenue
Café reservations: 510 548 5049
Restaurant reservations: 510-548 5525
http://www.chezpanisse.com/

Saul’s Restaurant & Delicatessen
1475 Shattuck Avenue
Tel: 510 848 3354
http://www.saulsdeli.com/

Berkeley Bowl Marketplace
2020 Oregon Street
510 843 6929

Muir Woods National Monument
Tel: 415 388 2595
Admission: $3
Open 8am to sunset or 5pm in winter

Carmel and Monterey

We’re going to race through the time we spent in Carmel-by-the-Sea. What can you say about a town with hyphens? That its quaintness is over-rated, that its obsession with pets is weird, that its faux little Hansel and Gretel cottages are twee. I’m sure Carmel is a lovely place to live if you are over 65, drive a 4X4 and play golf but for visitors looking for Carmel’s quirky, artistic past, our advice is to just keep driving. If you stop, however, we recommend the Dolphin Inn, a quiet, well appointed, reasonably priced hotel close to the center of town. Carmel City Beach is quite nice also.

If you are driving through, we do recommend that you stop at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Despite the aquarium’s reputation for being crowded and expensive, it was Eloise’s turn to have some fun. After all, she had done the courthouse, the mission, the castle and the library with good grace and a sense of NoCrowds adventure. But this time we were going to see something that is at the top of every family’s “to do” list in central California. And that’s the problem. No matter what day of the week, and we were there on a Thursday, the place is filled with marauding children, thousands of them it seemed. Plus it’s expensive, $40.90 for the two of us. And it is located in a tragically awful tourist redevelopment of Cannery Row (Steinbeck devotees look away now) filled with chain restaurants and souvenir shops.

But for all that, we loved it. Despite the cost, the crowds and the sad surroundings this is an awesome, world class aquarium which combines American showmanship with the enormous educational challenge of getting us to understand and care about what is happening to our oceans.

All the exhibits offer a winning combination of entertainment and education. The exhibit on jellies (I used to call them jelly fish but I now know they are invertebrates) was a psychedelic experience. The sea otters were beyond adorable. The three story, 343,000 gallon Kelp Forest tank was, well, huge and mesmerizing. We learned a lot about what is threatening our oceans and what is and isn’t being done about it. There is a great little exhibit set in a 1950’s American diner about how to make smart seafood choices and an historical exhibition of what Cannery Row looked like in the days when Steinbeck described it as “a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.” Ironically, we found more of that feeling inside the aquarium than outside in what’s left of Cannery Row.

For the record, we decided to pass on Monterey’s famous 17 Mile Drive, the only private toll road west of the Mississippi, which connects Carmel and Pacific Grove passing through Pebble Beach, one of America’s grandest gated communities. I really couldn’t see the point of giving the Pebble Beach Company $9 to drive through a safari park for rich folks. Instead, we pushed straight on to San Francisco into the welcoming arms of my cousin and her family.

The Facts

The Dolphin Inn
Corner of 4th & San Carlos Street
Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA 93921
Tel: 800-433-4732 toll-free
Local: 831-624-5356
Email: dolphin@innsbythesea

The Monterey Bay Aquarium
886 Cannery Row
Monterey, California 93940
Tel: 800-756-3737
Local: 831-648-4937
Hours: 10 a.m. – 6 p.m. Daily

Photo courtesy of the Monterey Bay Aquarium website

Big Sur: Nirvana with NoCrowds

Day 3 San Luis Obispo to Big Sur
Wake up early. No time for breakfast. Jump in the car. Race to Hearst Castle. This was not the leisurely meander up the PCH we had in mind but I was worried about making our 9:00am non-refundable, non-exchageable tour reservation.

“Mom, why are we doing this? We’ve got way better castles back home and it’s going to be crowded. This is going to make you crazy, I can tell.”

Eloise had a point. Even making the reservation the day before had made me a little crazy. To see anything at Hearst Castle you must reserve one or more tours at specific times and even though it was off-season, it was hard to find a convenient slot. Still, the advice I had been given by everyone was “Whatever you do, don’t miss Hearst Castle.” In the end, there was nothing to do but submit to the process, pay the $36, get up early and head for La Cuesta Encantada ( the Enchanted Hill) as William Randolph Hearst liked to call his 90,080 square foot castle in the clouds.

Here’s the thing. Even though it’s a hassle and crowded, it’s worth it. Don’t be put off by the Visitor’s Center with its pedestrian gift shops and food courts. The fun begins when you climb into “the magic school bus” that takes you up the 1,500 foot hill overlooking the Pacific. As you drive along, the crazy, medieval, gothic, Moorish monster mansion, built over the course of 30 years by Berkeley architect Julia Morgan, looms larger and larger. Finally, you are deposited at the entrance where you meet your tour guides. The tour lasts for a little over an hour and does a great job of telling the story of all the people who played a role in creating the world’s grandest showplace. The tycoon, the architect, the mistress and the celebrities all come to life through the impressive narrative skills of the guides. Yes, the whole thing is a scandalous monument to material excess but just like the original Hearst guests, we were having too much fun to care.

Back in the car, Eloise and I began to make our way along the most spectacular section of the PCH, the 90 mile Big Sur coastline which stretches from San Simeon to Carmel. The winding road shoehorned precariously between the Santa Lucia Mountain Range and the Pacific Ocean is as wild and untamed as the magnificent craggy coastline. There are no traffic lights, no signs, no fast food and only three places to buy gas along the entire stretch. Guide books point out that rock slides, road closures and traffic accidents are common occurrences although we experienced none of that. The Big Sur Chamber of Commerce (what commerce?) calculates that there are less than 300 hotel beds in the entire area. I was in a state of NoCrowds nirvana.

“Look Eloise, is this not the most gorgeous, undeveloped, uncrowded stretch of road you have ever seen in your life?”
“It’s great Mom. How long until we get to our hotel?”
“Not too long, but first I want to stop at the Henry Miller Library.”
[Silence from the back seat.]
Don’t worry, it’s not a real library. It’s more like a Henry Miller experience. He was a really interesting writer who lived around here and a friend of his turned his house into a memorial to Henry Miller except he didn’t like memorials so it’s kind of a cultural happening. You can get a cup of tea and we don’t have to stay too long.

As it turned out, we stayed all afternoon. Eloise played ping pong in the garden with anyone who found it hard to tell a little girl “no”. We chatted with fellow travellers. Eloise met a teacher from New York and they discussed schools. I read “Travels with Charley”. We looked at books, the Paris and Beat Generation memorabilia, the crazy, larger-than-life crucifix made out of computer monitors. We sat in the sun and drank tea. On the way out, I asked Eloise what she thought of the whole thing. “Mom, Henry Miller was one wacky guy.” As we got back in the car, I imagined a much older Eloise, sitting in a literature class and holding forth on the Tropic of Cancer’s place in the American literary canon. Right then I made a wish that she would remember that once, when she was small, she spent a perfect afternoon hanging out with her old Mum at Miller’s anti-memorial memorial. I really hope she does remember.

Late in the day, we finally made it to the Big Sur River Inn, just down the road from the library and the most northern of the lodging possibilities. We had intended to stay at Deetjen’s, built by a Norwegian immigrant in the 1930s and now on the National Register of Historic Places which is run on a non-profit basis by the Big Sur Inn Preservation Foundation, but we way underestimated the demand and tried to score a room late in the day with no luck. I also considered booking into the Esalen Institute, home of the Human Potential movement where Hunter Thompson was once the caretaker, but I was sure this hippie camp for boomers would be wasted on Eloise. Ditto for naked bathing in the Esalen hot springs baths which is open to the public from 1am to 3am. We couldn’t afford the upmarket Ventana and Post Ranch Inns (a pity since Playboy Magazine voted the Post Ranch the sexiest place on earth) and all the other mid-range options were booked.

In the end, the Big Sur River Inn suited us fine. Besides, we didn’t have a choice. Dating back to 1888, tucked under towering redwoods and overlooking a picturesque creek, the main building is a rustic place with a laid back vibe. Our room, which was in the motel-like section across Highway One, really wasn’t great – poorly lit, Spartan bathroom, interesting odors, close to the road – but imbued with the bonhomie that comes from amazing surroundings and good company, we didn’t care. And there were some nice touches to offset our disappointing room: funky Adirondack and willow chairs were placed in the creek (yes, IN the creek) which was a popular place to read. We had a pleasant dinner and even better American breakfast in the atmospheric dining room. We loved the old fashioned General Store next door where guys in pick-up trucks would pull in to buy their coffee. With all that said, the next time we’re in Big Sur, we’re reserving three months ahead and going to Deetjen’s.

Before leaving Big Sur, we wanted to check out the beach. I had read that the Pfeiffer beach was hard to find so that sounded perfect. According to the Big Sur Chamber of Commerce, the trick is to locate unmarked Sycamore Canyon Road, which is not so tricky once you know that it is the only paved, ungated road west of Highway One between the Big Sur Post Office and the Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. The drive down the single lane winding road was slightly exciting and the beach was wild, gorgeous and freezing. What a contrast from the well behaved and accessible beaches of southern California. Pfeiffer Beach with its funky access, roaring wind, crashing waves and towering boulders is a beach for rebels and bandits. We climbed rocks and wrote in the sand but finally, it was so cold we couldn’t stand it anymore so back in the car and off to Carmel-by-the-Sea.

The Facts

Hearst Castle
750 Hearst Castle Road
San Simeon, CA 93452
Tel: 800 444 4445
http://www.hearstcastle.com/
Advanced reservations strongly recommended

The Henry Miller Memorial Library
Highway One ( a quarter mile south of Nepenthe and a quarter mile north of Deetjens)
Tel: 831 667 2574
http://www.henrymiller.org/
Open every day except Tuesday from 11 to 6

Big Sur River Inn
Highway One at Pheneger Creek
Big Sur, CA 93920
Tel: 831 667 2700
Toll Free: 800 548 3610
Fax: 831 667 2743
info@bigsurriverinn.com
http://www.bigsurriverinn.com/

Pfeiffer Beach

Mile 63.2N (1 Mile South of Big Sur State Park)

Access via (unmarked) Sycamore Canyon Road

For more info call 831 667 2315

On the Road with Cavemen

Day 2 - Santa Barbara to San Luis Obispo

The next morning, we headed for the Santa Barbara County Courthouse, often described as the most beautiful public building in the United States. Eloise was suspicious. Is this a museum? I could honestly say that it wasn’t. This historic building, with exceptional Spanish-Moorish palace architecture, fabulous Islamic tiles, some impressive and instructive murals of California history and an 85 foot clock tower with awesome views over Santa Barbara, is still a functioning courthouse and you are free to wander around the large and elegant public building and gardens and sit in on the court proceedings.

While in the courthouse, we had our first Steinbeckian moment when Eloise began to focus on some of the people wandering the halls who were either homeless or in some kind of trouble with the law. She wondered about practical things. Why is that woman missing so many teeth? Do homeless people have enough money to feed their dogs? By their own estimates, Santa Barbara, one of the richest communities in the US, has as many as 4,000 homeless individuals on any given night and a chronic homeless population of 945. Panhandlers (an American expression for beggars) are another feature of the street life in Santa Barbara, operating where tourists congregate. For all Santa Barbara’s considerable charms, it is unsettling to see so many people who have lost their way in this land of plenty. Eloise continued to wonder about how such things happen.

Mom, doesn’t America have plenty of money?
Well, yes darling it does but …..
But Mom, what I really want to know is, will these people be OK? What will happen to them?
I don’t know Eloise, I just don’t know.

After our visit to the courthouse, we spent the rest of the morning wandering around town. We had a groovy Thai lunch seated beside a portrait of John Lennon
(or maybe Che Guevara) at Zen Yai on State Street. On our way out of town, I was able to convince Eloise that it would be lots of fun to visit the Old Mission Santa Barbara.

Is it a museum?
Well, no, it’s more like a church.
OK, churches don’t take too long. Let’s go.

Sitting perched on a hill half a mile north of downtown, the Old Mission Santa Barbara has been continuously occupied by the Franciscans since its foundation in 1786. The original purpose of the mission was the christianization of the Chumash Indians. After Spain lost California to Mexico, the mission was secularised and Indians came under civil jurisdiction. While missionaries were able to conduct services in the church, control of the real estate went back and forth until Abraham Lincoln returned the mission to the Catholic Church in 1865.

Today, you can take a self-guided or docent lead tour of the site which includes a small but interesting museum with Indian and colonial artifacts, the lovely 19th century neoclassical church and the mission grounds which contain a cemetery where approximately 4,000 Chumash Indians are buried. Eloise quickly picked up on the next Steinbeckian question.

So what happened to all those Indians anyway?
Oh, Eloise, a lot of them got sick, It’s a long story. Can we talk about it in the car?
Sure, Mom, where to next?
Next, Eloise, is the Madonna Inn and you are NEVER going to believe this place.

Of all the descriptions of the Madonna Inn which caught my attention in planning our trip, my favourite came from Umberto Eco in his book Travels in Hyperreality where he described the hotel as “Let’s say that Albert Speer, while leafing through a book on Gaudi, swallowed an overgenerous dose of LSD and began to build a nuptial catacomb for Liza Minnelli.” Huh? Whatever that means, I’ve got to see this place.

When we arrived at the Madonna Inn, located just off Highway 101 half way between LA and San Francisco in San Luis Obispo, we were ready for an over-the-top, parallel universe experience and that’s exactly what we got. There are 109 individually themed rooms such as the Caveman and Jungle Rock complete with waterfall showers and the Old Mill which has a genuine watermill that propels “life-like figurines in and out of a miniature mill structure.”

The public rooms are equally over-the-top with a pink and gold steakhouse where a little girl doll (wearing the outfit of the season) swings over your head. But the piece de resistance is the sensor operated men’s urinal waterfall which the San Luis Obispo Chamber of Commerce considers a major tourist attraction for the city. It’s so great it has its own website. And of course, Eloise and I went to see it.

What I appreciated most about the Madonna Inn is that it is completely sincere in its delivery of perfect, unadulterated Americana kitsch. This is a hotel that believes that hospitality is about exuberance and fun. You can plow through the 116 reviews on Tripadvisor and see for yourself that it’s not to everyone’s taste, but if I had to name the one hotel on our trip that Eloise and I will never ever forget, it is the Madonna Inn. And one last word from Eloise who was very cross with me for taking the relatively inexpensive Dutch Holland room. “Even if you are not a caveman, you’ll love this place. Take the caveman room.”

The Facts

Santa Barbara County Courthouse
1100 Anacapa Street
Tel: 805 962 6464
Open: Monday through Friday 8am to 5pm and weekends 10am to 4:30pm
Admissions free

Zen Yai
425 State Street
Santa Barbara, CA 93101
Tel: 805 957 1193
Lunch Tuesday – Friday 11:30 – 2:15
Dinner – Every night start at 5:00 and 5:30 on weekends

Old Mission Santa Barbara
2201 Laguna Street
Tel: 805 682 4713
http://www.sbmission.org/
Open daily 9am to 5pm
Admission: $4 for adults, children free

Madonna Inn
100 Madonna Road
San Luis Obispo
Tel: 800 543 9666 or 805 543 3000
Email: info@madonnainn.com
Our room cost $153/£80.75/€

What's the Most Fun You Can Have in a Car?

There is a saying that a well-loved child has many names. The same can be said about one of America’s best loved highways, State Route 1 in California, aka Highway 1 or Pacific Coast Highway or, as locals call it, the PCH. No matter what it is called, this 655 mile stretch of tarmac, which starts south of Los Angeles in Orange County and ends north of San Francisco in Mendocino County, is the most beautiful, dramatic and inspiring coastline in the United States. That’s a bold statement but I doubt anyone who has driven this road will argue.

Eloise and I spent 4 days travelling north on the PCH from LA to San Francisco. We drove a total of 577 miles in a red Chevy Impala, a most uncool car which was perfect for our Thelma and Louise purposes. Eloise insisted, against all my cheap instincts, that we add a GPS system to our rental agreement and never has a gadget that I knew nothing about, and trusted less, proved more useful. Our new talking companion ended up being the third girl in the car – “turn right, turn left, turn around now”. She and Eloise got along like houses on fire, she always knew where she was going and never complained when she was ignored.

Day 1 – John Wayne Airport, Orange County to Santa Barbara

Driving through LA was not fun. I suppose it is instructive to spend several hours stuck on freeways contemplating America’s dependence on cars/oil/Saudi Arabia/China. Eloise, being a London girl, was experienced in the art of zoning out in traffic and chose to play a computer game in the back seat about simulated people in a simulated suburb. At first, I thought, this was ridiculous. We’ve come all this way. She should stop playing Sims and look at LA. Then I thought about how ridiculous it would be to say “Stop staring at that screen and admire the view across 12 lanes of stopped traffic.” After that thought, I left her alone.

Once we reached Santa Monica with its wide sandy beach and beautiful bluffs, all was forgotten. The open road beckoned and neither of us was in the mood to stop. I did consider pulling into the Getty Villa off the PCH in Malibu where a reconstruction of a patrician Roman villa houses the Getty antiquities collection. Normally, you need to purchase a timed ticket in advance but this was mid-week in March and who knows, maybe we’d get lucky.

We didn’t stop, however, given the risk that we wouldn’t get in plus I did not want to spoil our newly established road camaraderie with a contentious discussion about going to museums. Instead, we went to Zuma Beach in Malibu. Long, wide and sandy, this is the California beach of every visitor’s imagination. There is tons of parking, either free off the PCH or $7 in the gigantic lots and plenty of amenities including swings, volleyball courts, rest rooms, showers and food vendors. Zuma is supposed to be busy on the weekends but on a Tuesday in March, it was deserted. We had a fine time admiring this empty mega-beach, finishing with an undistinguished lunch at Spruzzo’s, located directly across the PCH from the beach entrance. The view of the Pacific from the outdoor terrace on top of an unattractive strip mall almost justifies the mediocre food.

Back in the car, Eloise loaded the Presidio Motel in Santa Barbara into the Garmon Girl and we were off. We picked Santa Barbara for our first night for several reasons. It is blessed with everything. Only an hour’s drive from LA., Santa Barbara has near perfect weather, gorgeous beaches and an interesting history. It is also known for being opulent and expensive but just about every travel writer in the business has recently selected Santa Barbara as the counter-intuitive subject for a budget travel article. As I write this post, the New York Times just published one. The LA Times wrote essentially the same piece in January.

We had picked Presidio based on good reviews in both an LA Times article and The Lonely Planet which described it as a good value, trendy little motel. Hey, I thought, what could be hipper than a red Chevy Impala, a precocious ten year old and a more than middle aged mamma. We’ll stay there. It was a good choice. At $112 for the night, Presidio had clean, comfortable and stylish (as in cool Ikea) rooms. The location, at the northern end of State Street, is good, the proprietors are groovy, and wifi, bicycles and breakfast are included in the rate.

After a stroll around the chic Spanish style town, we stopped at Carlito’s Café Y Cantina for dinner, a restaurant recommended by the Presidio for offering good food, a relaxed atmosphere and a fair price. For serious foodies, Carlitos is nothing special but we were happy with our choice. We ate on the patio outside, which for Londoners in March is blissful. Our waiter was ultra charming to Eloise (she came home with dozens of little Mexican flags when she only asked for one), I had an impressive Halibut ceviche and the bill, with wine, came to a reasonable $42. Relaxed and contented we strolled back to Presidio for an early night.

Useful Addresses

Zuma Beach
30000 Pacific Coast Highway
Malibu
Call 310-457 2525 for more information

Spruzzo’s
29575 Pacific Coast Highway
Tel: 310 457 8282

Presidio Motel
1620 State Street
Santa Barbara
Tel: 805 963 1355
http://www.thepresidiomotel.com/

Carlitos Café and Cantina
1324 State Street
Santa Barbara
Tel:805 962 7117
http://www.carlitos.com/


Photo courtesy of Jeff Mason

Orange County - Don't Knock It Till You Tried It

Our original plan did not include spending lots of time in Orange County. I confess, I had a bad attitude about the O.C. which was conditioned by the television show of the same name, an aversion to Disney and the county’s reputation for ultra-conservative politics. I was not convinced there was a good time to be had in a cultural wasteland best known for rich kids behaving badly, Mickey Mouse mind control and Bush-loving fundamentalists so when our soon-to-be-in-demand screenwriter got a job in Miami and our non-refundable tickets to LA remained non-refundable, we emailed the travel Yente of Southern Cal (known to frequent readers of this blog as Sandy of Soul City fame) laying our problem of the missing son/brother squarely in his lap.

Here is his response.

“I'll be on hand to meet your BA flight on the 20th. I'll spirit you away from the angry angst and vivid colors of Los Angeles, to the beatific mauves and washed-out blues of Orange County, located exactly 45 miles--straight-shot-- south of LAX. For the next 24-36 hours, we'll focus on entirely trivial pursuits, which would be the most suitable way to begin your California adventure.”

With such a splendid invitation on offer, we accepted immediately. And this is what we found.

Regardless of your take on the California culture wars, you can have big fun in Orange County. With sun, sea breezes and mild temperatures, the climate is near perfect. The beaches range from huge and sandy to intimate and craggy and to the OC’s considerable credit, a lot of effort has gone into making the 42 miles of coastline accessible to the public. There are extensive hiking, biking and riding trails many stretching from the mountains to the sea, some of the largest ultra-luxe shopping malls in the country and there is even an alternative amusement park, Knotts Berry Farm, that is smaller and cheaper than Disney. If southern Cal is all about flip flops, a beach towel and a set of wheels, then Orange County is a smart place to go to get this experience.

Retail Religion

Following the travel Yente’s advice that we stick to trivial pursuits, the first thing we did on our first day in southern California was to go shopping. Not just any shopping, mind you, we went to South Coast Plaza, the mega mall of Orange County which claims to be the only true competition to Rodeo Drive and the most visited mall in America. The place has gobsmacking metrics with 3 million square feet of enclosed space spread over a 128 acre site with 300 shops including Hermes, Pucci, and Bulgari plus nine anchor department stores. After Disneyland, it is Orange County’s most visited attraction.

The website http://www.seeing-stars.com/, in addition to telling you which celebrities shop at South Coast, reports that some tour groups from Japan plan their entire vacations around the place. We’re not suggesting you go that far, but if you are looking for a California shopping experience straight out of “Pretty Woman”, South Coast Plaza has got it.

A Picturesque Village with an Artistic Past

After worshipping at the alter of ueber-consumption, we headed next for the seaside community of Laguna Beach. With a Mediterranean look and feel, an artistic vibe and an authentic bohemian past, this is a town where Europeans, liberals and East Coast refugees would feel right at home. Any place that could attract former residents such as John Steinbeck (he wrote Tortilla Flats in Laguna), Timothy Leary (Turn on, tune in, drop out), and Tennessee Williams, can’t be all bad.

With the average Laguna house now costing over one million dollars, there are few artists left but there are a number of art galleries and festivals, lots of quirky and interesting shops, restaurants and bars and seven miles of coast with 30 public beaches and coves. In a part of the world filled with planned communities and McMansions, this town feels much more authentic and interesting. That’s the good news. The bad news is that this gorgeous small village attracts three million visitors a year with the usual traffic and parking problems. We were there in late March and things were already getting a bit frantic and clogged up. If you are staying at a hotel near the village, it looked like a good idea to leave your car there and ride the local bus.

For our visit, we solved the parking problem by eating lunch at outdoor restaurant, The Cliff, which hangs spectacularly over the Pacific Ocean and has a convenient valet parking service. The food, mostly salads, sandwiches was nothing special but the combination of breathtaking views, good service and parking made this place a winner in our book. Lunch for three set us back $60.

An Inspiring Conservation Story

Just north of Laguna Beach off the PCH you will find the Crystal Cove Historic District, part of the 2,791 acre Crystal Cove State Park, and of all the things we saw in Southern California, this was the most inspiring. This enclave of rustic coastal cottages, built in the 20s and 30s has been saved by a fabulous piece of conservation work by residents and environmentalists after the State declared its intention to demolish the cottages and built an upscale resort on the land which sits directly on a beautiful stretch of pristine beach.

The efforts of local activists resulted in the creation of a 12.3 acre Historic District containing the 46 vintage coastal cottages, including the house used in the Bette Midler film, Beaches, pictured above. Twenty-two of the forty-six cottages have been lovingly restored with period décor and 13 of these cottages are available for rent starting at $30 a night for a room in a shared cottage to $175 a night for the most expensive cottage which sleeps 4. At four o’clock every afternoon the martini flag is raised and any one lucky enough to have secured one of the cottages will experience the charm of California beach life as it was lived in a more laid back era.

Securing a rental requires skill, organisation and luck. According to the Lonely Planet guide to Coastal California, here’s how to go about it:

1) Start planning more than 6 months ahead of your intended visit
2) Check out the cottages on http://www.crystalcovebeachcottages.com/
3) Set up an on-line account with the reservation agent, Reserve America at http://www.reserveamerica.com/ (800-444-7275)
4) Reserve exactly 6 months before your intended stay (for example, for a booking anytime in July go online and/or call at 8:00 AM sharp on March 1)
5) If unsuccessful, keep checking back for cancellations.

A Great Little Beach

As we were short on time and given my dislike of crowds, Sandy suggested that we visit Little Corona del Mar for our afternoon at the beach. Unlike “Big” Corona, with all the classic California beach amenities such as volleyball, lifeguards, food and outdoor showers, that always attracts the crowds, Little Corona is small, secluded and relatively uncrowded. The swimming is good and exploring the tide pools is a diverting activity for children. There is plenty of free on the street parking near the entrance to the beach and it is interesting to walk around this attractive seaside neighbourhood. The entrance to Little Corona can be found at the corner of Poppy Avenue and Ocean Boulevard.

A Norman Rockwell Town with a “Happy Days” Diner

Driving around Old Town Orange, you get the feeling that you’ve been there before. In a way, you have. Given the city’s proximity to LA’s film industry, more than 116 film and television programs including Tom Hank’s “That Thing You Do”, “Small Soldiers”, “American Wedding” and “Big Momma’s House” have all had scenes shot in Orange, according to the Internet Movie Data Base.

Driving around this historic neighbourhood with its old fashioned store fronts, homes and cars is an unexpected Southern California experience, but the real reason to visit Orange is to make a trip to the drugstore and diner called Watson’s which has been in business since 1899 and serves up authentic diner food and 1950s atmosphere in equal measure. With a full service soda fountain equipped with a real soda “jerk” (the guy who makes the sodas) Watson’s is understandably famous for their malts and milkshakes. The natives like to dip their French fries into their shakes, Service is fast and friendly and prices are reasonable.

Don’t Knock It Till You’ve Tried It

As our Orange County time drew to a close, it became clear that the soon-to-be-in-demand screenwriter had actually done us a favour. Without his absence, we might have dismissed the OC out of hand (lacking in soul, too many McMansions) and headed quickly north. Instead, we had the chance to enjoy some wonderful public resources, such as the beaches with excellent amenities as well as the hiking and biking trails. Eloise got to spend the day at Knotts Berry Farm, an American amusement park that once upon a time was a real berry farm and chicken restaurant. “You would not have liked it, Mom. It was pretty crowded. I had a fantastic time.”

By hanging out at South Coast Plaza shopping mall, we got a taste of the television version of the OC and by attending one of the mega-churches on Easter morning, we received a master class in the evangelism that informs so much of modern American life and politics. Power point prayer, valet parking and a cast of thousands deliver a religious experience that is pure California.

Sandy was right. Beginning our California adventure in Orange County was an inspired idea. We had a fabulous time and as Sandy’s daughter said after dunking her French fries into her milk shake – Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

South Coast Plaza
3333 Bristol Street
Costa Mesa, CA 92626
Tel: 800 728 8888
Mon – Fri 10am to 9pm
Sat – 10am to 8pm
Sund 11am to 6:30pm

The Cliff Restaurant
577 South Coast Highway
Laguna Beach CA 92651
Tel: 949 494 1956

Crystal Cove State Park
8471 North Coast Highway
Laguna Beach, CA 92651
Tel: 949 492 0802

Little Corona Del Mar Beach
Corner of Poppy Avenue and Ocean Boulevard
Tel: 949 644 3151
Open 6am to 10pm

Watson’s Drugstore and Diner
116 E. Chapman
Orange, CA 92866
Tel: 714 633 1050

Eloise in the Land of the Lotus

It is a truth universally acknowledged that girls grow up and stop enjoying road trips with their mothers. Thank God for California which has saved us, if only temporarily, from this sad but inevitable day. Everything - the sun, the beaches, the friendly people and unfriendly cars - all conspired to make this “at risk” couple the happiest of travel companions.

Like most visitors to California, we focussed on the coast, starting south of Los Angeles and slowly making our way along the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) to San Francisco. To reduce the length of this post, over the next few days, we will divide the California story into three sections: Orange County, the PCH and the San Francisco Bay area. But first, a word about LAX.

Entering the United States through Los Angeles Airport (LAX) is a bad beginning. No, we were not cavity searched, finger printed or roughed up (with our US passports we were in the line for the chosen people) but we seemed to make it to the luggage carousel at about the same time as all the “aliens” on our flight, so they probably weren’t cavity searched either. Clearing Immigration took about 30 minutes, which I suppose, in today’s world, should be considered acceptable but the LA Times recently published an article about a substantial increase in foreign flights into LAX, so expect waiting times to get a lot worse.

What can’t get much worse is the whole business of retrieving your luggage, and oh the horror of the baggage hall at LAX. Eloise understood immediately that extraordinary measures were necessary, ducking, jiving and improvising like a native.
The British neophytes from BA Flight 283 took longer to get the hang of it. For a long time they just stared in disbelief at the third world chaos but finally, finding their inner Darwin, they launched into the fray, raising the threat level of being taken out by flying luggage to Orange. As one tired traveller remarked, “Can this really be the world’s only superpower?” I will say it now, as a gateway to the United States, LAX is a disgrace. Avoid it if you can. A much better idea is to enter via San Francisco which has a new, beautiful and efficient international terminal.

Despite the bad beginning of LAX, it did not take long to slip indolently into the pursuit of pleasure that is southern California. Before facing the famous rush hour freeways, we spent a pleasant hour in the LA beach town of Santa Monica, checking out the neighbourhood of a soon-to-be in demand and respected screenwriter (Eloise’s brother). We thought Santa Monica looked like a lot of fun. We especially liked the Santa Monica Pier with its old fashioned vibe and funny collection of amusements which include a beautiful vintage carousel. Since the screenwriter brother was out of town, we decided to save further explorations until his return and as the diabolical traffic had eased off, we began to make out way south to Orange County, now known as the OC, home of surfing, shopping and breast implants.

Travels with Eloise: In Search of America

We're off to America.

Searching for inspiration, we thought about John Steinbeck and his journey around America with his poodle, Charley.

Poodles may be fine narrative devices but daughters are even better.

We'll be on the road for the next month asking the same question Steinbeck asked 50 years ago.

So what is America like today?