The Best of Both Worlds, Part Two

After an hour and a half tour of Tor House, Phil and I were ready to eat. Phil remembered driving to Pebble Beach on a public road, but we couldn't find it, so we stopped at the Carmel entrance to the 17-Mile Drive and imagine our delight when the guard there told us that we would be reimbursed for the $9.25 entry fee if we bought a meal at the Lodge at Pebble Beach, which is why we wanted to take the road in the first place. We rode away with our receipt tucked safely in Phil's wallet so we wouldn't forget and an impressively illustrated brochure with a map of the many landmarks along the 17-Mile Drive.

Turns out that map came in handy because despite the fact that it costs almost $10 to drive the route, no one seems to have put a dime into new road signs in the last twenty years or so. Between the faded print and the haphazard placement and the flat-out non-existence of signs at many intersections, we got sidetracked several time, affording us views of several multi-million dollar estates not listed on the brochure. It's been decades since I've been on the 17-Mile Drive and my memory was of non-stop spectacular views. This time, I was disappointed that many residences are surrounded by high walls or hedges which block the ocean views.

Pebble Beach did not disappoint however. Once we meandered around the access road to the visitor's parking lot, we walked into the Gallery Cafe and got a table at about a quarter to twelve with a view of the putting green and the first tee. The meals were pricey but absolutely delicious. I got fish and chips with three different sauces and Phil got the chicken pot pie, which had amazingly flakey crust and delicately seasoned sauce. There was an aura even in the cafe that we were all sharing a special experience of a place where legends were born.

After lunch, we walked down to the pro shop and Phil got a score card. We watched a few golfers tee off and then Phil reassured me it was okay to proceed on to the club house, which houses the check-in desk for the spa and the more expensive restaurants. We walked through the lobby for a drop dead gorgeous view of the 18th hole and Stillwater Cove sparking like topaz just beyond it. Phil guided me down a back stairway and out to the lawn where grandstands are set up for the big tournaments. We watched two foursomes finish up their golf round to end all golf rounds. Frankly, several of them seemed a little shell-shocked. Golf is one of those cantankerous sports that charges the most impossible courses. Phil told me that this one costs $495.

We got turned around again getting back on 17-Mile Drive but once we got our directions straight, the road up Monterey was truly memorable. The surf seemed especially wild because of the recent storms and around each curve of the rocky coast a new angle on the frothy breakers rushing toward the shore came into view. This part of the drive is less residential (more woods and golf courses) so the views were never obscured. It was a perfect way to say good bye to this majestic part of California's coastline.

Our minds were kind of blown by all the breath-taking scenery, so we took it easy back at Steve's house. Phil had a nap and I downloaded a new audio book. We had leftovers for dinner, trying to use up some of the stuff we'd brought with us or bought in the last two weeks. Then we went out to the Aptos Cinemas in the Rio Del Mar Shopping Center and watched Crazy Heart. Both of us are 57, so we were attracted to the story of a man that age who thought of himself as washed up. The story was predictable, but the acting was so convincing, we had lots to talk about on the way home.

Kicking Back

Friday, March 5. I slept deeply but had a hard time getting out of bed. I coaxed myself to get up by turning on the MP3 player and listening to The Poisonwood Bible. It has taken a tragic turn, so I got caught up and sat down to listen after I'd finished dressing. I didn't even hear Phil upstairs talking to his mother on a Skype call. I hurried up to say goodbye to her and fixed eggs and bagels for breakfast. We're running low on ground coffee so we had instant. We watched the Edmunds.com "Cadillac meeting" via an Internet feed. Wow! Technology is pretty mindblowing! We covered thousands of miles with just a few clicks

After breakfast, we took Dixie for a long walk. The blue sky is a pleasant surprise, but the temperature's still pretty chilly. Back at Steve's, I got clothes together for a wash and listened to the MP3 while Phil went to work. We had soup and sandwiches for lunch and one of Steve's grapefruit. It occurs to me that having a lot of citrus in this cold, wet climate not only wards off colds. It's cheery and sweet on a cloudy day. Phil had another good way to warm up. He rides Steve's exer-cycle.

About 3 pm, we hopped in the car, and drove to Gayle's Bakery. It's a good thing I didn't check out this place earlier in the visit. I would have gained mega-poundage. The sandwiches and wraps look scrumptious, but the dessert counter is even more irresistable. Phil said, "The sky's the limit," so I ordered a Delice (mini chocolate mousse with chocolate coating and crusted hazelnuts AND a cherry cream cheese danish (which I saved for later). Phil got a downtowner (light almost crispy muffin with cinnamon sugar garnish) and a bear claw). We had coffee and sampled some of the treats before we headed out for a walk. I resolved to surf the web when I got home to try and find a bakery approaching Gayle's caliber in the Long Beach area.

It took Phil's sharp eye to find the entrance to the Forest of Nisene Marks State Park. It is sort of a poor stepchild as state parks go with little signage and narrow roads rutted with pot holes. It's obscurity makes for limited visitors, so we enjoyed the quiet of the tall trees with a few joggers and one determined mountain biker. We walked up the unpaved road for a while and then veered off up the Buggy Trail. The mosses and ferns seemed to swallow up all outside noise except the babbling stream one hundred feet below us. Several homes and farms are grandfathered into the park's boundaries. We talked about what it would be like to work from home in such a serene, but remote setting.

Back at home, Dixie welcomed us enthusiastically. She really seems to have accepted us at long last. We tried to prolong the serenity of our forest walk by having a meditation session, which spooked Dixie a little bit. Phil got a fire going and then we fixed tortellini with a souped up marinara sauce and salad and bread sticks. Dixie had her dinner as we ate in front of the TV, watching the Colbert Report for the first time in months. After taking Dixie for a short walk, we settled down on pillows in front of the TV to watch another Hitchcock classic, The Birds. It is always fascinating to see how he manipulates expectation for the maximum of suspense and surprise. The California locations were also fun to watch. Phil brought Dixie's box back upstairs and she seemed happy to be back in Steve's room. Step by step, we're getting ready for her master's return.

See Worthy

Thursday, March 4. The skies are brilliantly blue and everything below sparkles in the sun, still glistening from yesterday's rain. We don't have much planned today, which means there's plenty of time to catch up on blogs and take stock of what we haven't done and what we just have to do before we leave on March 9 (five days). I'd like a hike in the woods and a visit to Tor House, Phil would like to visit San Francisco again and to visit Pebble Beach Club House. Four locations in five days definitely sounds doable, even on top of the requisite house cleaning and grocery restocking chores.

After breakfast, I took Dixie for a little neighborhood walk. Every day, she seems a little more relaxed walking with us. I was unpleasantly surprised at how chilly it was even with the brilliant sunshine. I've become a real coddled Southern Californian who thinks sunny automatically means warm. Back at the house, I got a call that I might get my proofreading job at CSULB thesis department in April. It would be nice to get some money coming in even though I will have to take a pay cut. Phil and I talked about things to do to get out of the house. Phil suggested a quick shopping trip to Trader Joe's (weren't we just there yesterday?) so I surfed the net for nearby restaurants and came up with two possibilities: Fresh Choice and Gayle's Bakery.

We chose Fresh Choice because it was close to Trader's, but when we got there we found out it was a cafeteria style restaurant and since we had Dixie with us, it seemed too complicated. We walked over to Trader's and I shopped for stuff while Phil stood outside and got compliments from ladies on his cute little dog. I got a sandwich and a salad and we drove to Seacliff Drive and parked at Seacliff Mini Park, which is a minimally landscaped area with a few benches on the palisade overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Visibility was incredible and the sparkling water stretched for miles in every direction but east. We ate our takeout lunch in the sun-warmed front seat with a million dollar view. Dixie seemed to enjoy just being near us. She sat still and pricked up her ears every time either one of us talked.

Back home, we unpacked the groceries and made some coffee. Phil did some work and then headed out for nine holes at Seascape. He got me and Dixie started on another walk down to Hidden Beach. She did very well, prancing ahead and sniffing, sniffing, sniffing. The beach was lovely in the sunshine even though the surf wasn't as wild as yesterday. I got back home before Phil and did some reading. He came home chilled through so we had a beer and chips sitting next to the stove after he built a fire.

We talked to Tony as we ate supper, leftover burritos and soup. We spent the evening close to the stove, reading, chatting and Sudoku-ing. It's starting to feel a lot like home.

Out of this World -- in Santa Cruz and Beyond

Tuesday, March 2. We woke up to heavy rain this morning which escalated to a downpour. I settled in to write some blog posts while Phil had a telephone interview. With the rain pelting the windows and hammering the roof, we began to feel a little stir crazy. I got the assignment of finding a place to go for lunch. After surfing the Internet for a while, I came across the Saturn Cafe. It had great reviews and the website was a treat for the eye.

By the time we drove to Santa Cruz, the rain had let up to a drizzle. The Saturn Cafe is at 145 Laurel on the south end of the downtown shopping district. It's part of a row of stores with parking in the back, but its circular exterior sets it apart from the average minimall. The interior design is truly kooky, quirky and one of a kind. Many of the globe ceiling lights have pink rings around them like, well, Saturn, and lots of the furnishings, like the fifties era refrigerator near the entrance reflect the pink flamingo color scheme. The booths around the outer ring of the dining room have plexiglass tops over shallow display areas with kitschy knick knacks from bygone eras. Our table had butterflies and flowers and doves in assorted day glo colors.

The menu features vegan and vegetarian comfort food. I had corn dogs and Phil had a Tuno Melt -- both of them soy based imitations of the kind of thing you'd expect in any diner. We also had thin fries which wer delightfully crisp. Our waiter was happy to explain to us about the origin of Tuno and how the Saturn had a special recipe for its tuno salad to make it even more fishy tasting.

Phil had a phone interview, so while he talked in the car, I went for a little stroll up Beach Hill to get a view of the ocean and check out some of the glorious old Victorian homes along Main Street. The most glorious of all is Golden Gate Villa, an imposing multi-gabled beauty with an equally ornate carriage house behind it. It's so large I assumed it must have been built as a boarding house for vacationers, but it was actually a private residence for many years and now appears to be up for sale for a mere $8,500,000. What a time to have forgotten my camera.

By the time I got back to the car, Phil had finished his interview, so we headed for home, stopping off at Aptos Coffee Roasters for a couple of cups to go and some low fat oatmeal cookies. After a while, we put Dixie on her leash and headed for Hidden Beach again. Because of the downpour earlier, there weren't many people out so we walked all the way down to the beach. The breakers were phenomenal, cresting about ten feet above the water's surface in row after thundering row. The water was so churned up that frothy clumps of foam lay scattered over the beach like huge meringues. We walked along the water's edge for a while, but the surf was so loud that having a conversation was impossible. We climbed stairs labelled "No Trespassing! No Loitering! Observe Leash Law!" over a massive molded concrete sea wall and into a gated community.

Lucky for us, this enclave of million dollar homes carefully tiered row after row up the palisade to maximize the ocean views just happened to be the terminus of Club House Drive. We trudged up the hill, across the train tracks, and around the bend, braving the seemingly endless stream of SUVs and minivans blythely doing 50 in a 25 mile an hour zone. Everyone, even Dixie, was relieved to finally make it to the actual club house so we could detour into the relatively quieter limited access streets and finally home.

We thought Dixie would be exhausted by the long walk, but she was more energetic than ever, circling the living room as break neck speed and barking up a storm. Before our "little glass of wine," we had a meditation session and Dixie seemed disturbed by our sitting so still. She had a couple of extended barking spells and needed a lot of petting to reassure her after we were done. With our wine, we had a nice dinner of Greek salad and salmon, ratatouille and pita bread with bread pudding for dessert. We talked to Phil's aunt and Drew and Tony after dinner and settled down in front of Steve's toasty stove for an evening of emails and Sudoku.

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

Monday, March 1. Clouds roiled but no raindrops were falling, so after a nice breakfast, I left Phil in the midst of his teleconference meeting for my first solo trip. I drove over to Capitola, a tiny beach town cuddled between the coast and steep hills with an artistic flair. It's not so upscale or precious as Carmel, and especially on such a gray, chilly day, the brightly painted clapboard buildings seem like a bit of manmade sunshine. The shopkeepers are also very warm, brightening each time a rare rainy day customer appears. It's easy too imagine how crowded these streets must be on a sunny weekend, so I feel thankful that this pretirement excursion has given me the opportunity to linger in the shops and stroll along the beach as if I owned the place.

I also decided to do a little grocery shopping on the way home and unfortunately Highway 1 was not as idyllic as Capitola-by-the-Sea. I was shut out of the exit ramp I wanted to take so I had to take the next one and bushwhack back, getting a closer look at a few office parks than I wanted. Finally, I got there and Trader Joe's was as busy as ever. It felt good to get home and have a quiet lunch with Phil.

While I showered and changed clothes for our Valentine dinner, Phil had his second Monday teleconference. Then we headed off to Pacific Grove again. It was still chilly and cloudy but the sky had brightened a little, and Phil was excited about finally golfing at the Pacific Grove Municipal Golf Links and I looked forward to strolling around sleepy Pacific Grove. It's one of the first places I ever visited in California and way back then, it seemed a special forgotten place.

Now, it's not so forgotten. The shops along Lighthouse Avenue have been gussied up and many of the charming turn of the century residences have been refurbished. I couldn't help nosing around a few with "For Sale" signs and it seems there are still some reasonable (by California standards) prices as long as there is no ocean view. The Hart Mansion is going for $900,000 and a two bedroom a few blocks away was selling for $400,000.

The high point of my excursion was visiting the Point Pinos Lighthouse, conveniently located across the street from the golf course. The volunteer there had grown up in Long Beach and went to Lowell and Wilson. She told me about a lady lighthouse keeper, a wealthy widow who entertained Pacific Grove's finest families in her cozy quarters and I noticed a display about Robert Louis Stevenson's visit to the place. Outside again, I encountered a deer only about ten feet from me but unfortunately I did not get my camera out in time to capture the moment. There were also a gaggle of Canadian geese making life miserable for a frustrated golfer on the 10th hole.

I continued walking back towards town and stopped by the monarch butterfly grove, but the butterflies appear to have flown for the year. Along the way, I was impressed by the clever use of paint and other accents to make the vintage homes distinct. Not so flamboyant as Capitola, but still colorful and bright. I checked out the menus of several restaurants, including Fandango and Passionfish. Making a choice for dinner was not easy. There were even some tempting open air booths at the farmer's market. Finally, I decided on the Victorian Corner Restaurant, lots of variety in the menu and good mid-range prices for the entrees. I started to walk back toward the golf course when Phil called to let me know he was done and coming to pick me up.

I had eggplant parmagiana and he had butternut squash ravioli at the Victorian Corner. Our waitress was very attentive and suggested cheesecake for dessert. It was excellent. Phil told me about his round of golf. The marshall had escorted him past a party of slow golfers so he could play a few holes along the ocean. He said the views were spectacular, but the wind off the ocean was freezing. Both of us are pretty amazed at how much the rain and cold weather have affected us. We've gotten spoiled by the mild winters in Southern California, I guess. By the time we left at about 7 pm, Pacific Grove had practically shut down for the night.

Rainy Days and Sundays

February 28. It was a little sad waking up Sunday and realizing that Drew and Tony have to leave today. We had a very healthy breakfast of oatmeal and bran muffins, and then they started packing and even fitted in the extra set of golf clubs Phil had brought up for Peter. The weather was fine, a brisk wind and blue skies with dramatic billowing clouds. We drove two cars to Pacific Grove and stopped at Toastie's for brunch. It's got a great country kitchen decor and generous servings and the place was bustling with the after church crowd.

We walked around town a bit and then went down to Lover's Point to watch the surf. Maybe is was the aftermath of the earthquake off Chile or maybe it was storms at sea, but the breakers kept thundering in and booming against the rocky coastline. We walked from one location to another and took lots of photos of course. Silly us, how can you possibly make a wave stand still? Phil got a call from Peter and learned that his mother was doing better and would be able to go home on Monday.

Around 2 pm, Drew and Tony got in the Mitsubishi and headed south, and Phil and I got in the Honda and took the coastal route by the golf course and even drove through Asilomar. We decided if tomorrow was not rainy, we'd return to Pacific Grove. Phil hoped to get 9 holes in and I wanted to see the butterfly grove and the Pinos Point Lighthouse. We had put off a special Valentine's Dinner (we had thought Peter would be visiting us that weekend) so we decided to find a nice restaurant in Pacific Grove and have a dinner out there.

The drive from Aptos to the Monterey area is much less hectic than the drive north. The road passes massive sand dunes and acres and acres of cultivated fields, strawberries and artichokes mainly. Now and then, there'll be a farm stand with piles of brilliantly colored fruits and vegetables, and glimpses of farm towns like Castroville and Watsonville in the distance. It's just a thumbnail of all the growing that goes on in the Salinas Valley and the San Joaquin further east, but it's very restful and reassuring taking a Sunday drive in the country--a throwback to childhood.

As we passed the huge towers of the power plant at Moss Landing, a long-legged crane stood right by the side of the road, watching us pensively as we passed. The Elkhorn Slough is a well-known bird sanctuary and has become a kayaking mecca of sorts. It was fun to think we'd bagged a birder's trophy from the comfort of our car.

Back home, we took Dixie for a long walk all the way to Hidden Beach. She was in high spirits, prancing ahead of us on her leash. We met a Pekinese mix (with an owner attached) and the owner explained "parallel socialization" to us. If two dogs are confrontational meeting head on (as Dixie and the Pekinese were), they may slowly accept each other if they walk side by side for awhile. We tried it with excellent results for the humans. The Pekinese's owner had lots to tell us about his trips to India and the care and feeding of small dogs. Sad to say, the two dogs were still a little snippy with each other as we parted ways at the intersection of Los Altos and Dolores.

The pathway into Hidden Beach, hemmed in by two steep hills, is always a little spooky to me, made even spookier by the shadows among the towering eucalyptus trees and the ominous hooting of an owl. Phil had heard the owl when he walked the golf course, so he knew what hole we were near. Most of the families at the playground were packing up to go home, and we passed several dog walkers heading home too. We did make it to the crest of the path by the park benches for a look at the surf. Thick cloud cover made the sunset pretty murky so we didn't linger. Dixie is such a little trooper. She made it all the way home on her own steam and gobbled up her dinner.

We had a more leisurely dinner of fat free refried beans and tofu burritoes and rice with half a beer. We have been reading passages from the Jon Kabat Kinn book and wanted to be relatively clear-headed for a meditation session. It went well. Dixie sat quietly on the sofa between us, like a miniature Buddha. (Hats off to Ron Burgundy) Then we finished watching Hitchcock's Vertigo and I got curious about the San Francisco locations. Phil said we could stop by San Juan Bautista on the way home if the timing was right and the rain wasn't falling.

Oddly enough, having spent most of the day away made Steve's house seem more like home to us. We settled in to a nice deep sleep. We can't figure out why we're sleeping so well. Is it the quiet or the cold or pushing back our sleep schedule to 11 pm or is it pretirement?

San Fran-tastic

Saturday, February 27. News about the earthquake in Chile and possible tsunamis as well as the sad news that Phil's mom had suffered a mild heart attack made it hard to decide whether to drive into San Francisco or not, especially with rain likely throughout the day. But after Phil had talked to several members of the family and learned that his mother was resting in stable condition in a hospital, we decided to go for it. Drew and Tony have visited San Francisco several times on their own and are familiar with BART as well as the MUNI mass transit options. Based on their past experience, we decided to drive in to the western part of the city near San Francisco State University campus and then take the MUNI into downtown.

On the drive in, the rain was hard and heavy, but Phil guided us through the torrents over the steep and winding Highway 17. By the time we got to the train, we had to get all our change together for the $2 fare ($8 for the 4 of us). A fellow passenger explained to us that we had to board the first car in order to pay the driver the fare and then it was smooth sailing all the way to downtown. Most of the trip was underground so when we emerged into the cold wind of nearly deserted downtown, it was a little bit discouraging.

Things heated up considerably once we got to Chinatown. There was a huge street fare underway in advance of the Chinese New Year Parade scheduled to take place that night. Throng is not intense enough a word to describe the masses of people shouldering their way up and down and sideways along the streets and sidewalks of a four or five square block area, happily queuing up to spin wheels of fortune for prizes large and small and grabbing fistfuls of handouts from vendors. I got a refreshing towel and the boys got festive red "good fortune" envelopes with free passes to a local horse race track. Everyone was enthusiastic and even giddy, and it reminded me of the happy anticipation in a public park on the Fourth of July.

Some of the Chinese restaurants were tempting, but all of them were packed, so we walked over to North Beach. Since we knew we were making a pizza that night, we stayed away from Italian restaurants and picked a small sandwich shop called Justa Bite. The service was attentive and the variety of sandwiches was surprising. I was a little distracted by a large monitor that flashed news bulletins every couple of minutes, but I enjoyed my avocado and cheese sandwich very much, and everyone felt fortified for a climb up Russian Hill. At the summit, we met a young Englishwoman who had just flown in from Richmond, VA the day before. She was as delighted with the clear blue sky and panoramic views as we were and got advice from Phil and Drew about using public transportation. Everyone was snapping photos like crazy except me because I forgot my camera and cell phone.

We continued on up Hyde Street to get a close up look at that crazy curving Lombard Street. Before we got there, we walked by a nearly deserted public tennis court with spectacular views of the bay and particularly the Golden Gate Bridge. Phil took several photos that he said he was going to send to a tennis magazine. We walked down the sidewalk beside Lombard Street watching the nervous faces of the drivers making the tight turns down the super steep block. One woman stood up looking out the sun roof of an SUV with her video camera. From the foot of the hill, I was struck at how the hedges along the road concealed the cars, making it look like a rose garden on a very steep incline. Maybe they should design all street in San Francisco like this.

Another four blocks downhill brought us to Fisherman's Wharf. Phil and I showed Drew and Tony the Argonaut, a former cannery building refurbished as hotel. We had coffee at a cozy coffee shop called Coffee Adventures, and then boarded a streetcar along the Embarcadero jampacked with riders. We got a transfer along with our $2 fare which let us transfer to the MUNI back to where our car was parked. So we practically circled the city for $4. Whatever else I have to say about San Francisco, its public transportation system is Fran-tastic. Even on a day snarled with traffic from the Chinese New Year Parade, we got everywhere we wanted to go quickly and easily.

We hit a couple of rain squalls and had a pretty scary skid on Highway 17, but Phil's nerves of steel got us through unscathed. We stopped at Trader Joe's for wine and some pizza fixings and the full moon beamed down on us serenely from a clear sky.

Retiring retirement and Good Times in Santa Cruz

Friday, February 26. Drew and Tony made it to Aptos safe and sound at about 9:30 Thursday night and we celebrated with some chocolate cherry soy ice cream. We discovered the flavor because Steve had half a carton in the freezer, and then we bought another so we had plenty to go around. Friday morning was cloudy and the weather forecast promised rain. We walked Dixie and then the four of us walked down to the Seascape clubhouse for a nice breakfast. The place was practically deserted because of the storms brewing.

Back at Steve's house, we kind of settled in. Drew and Tony decided to take the bus to Santa Cruz, and we promised to drive in and meet them for coffee later. The weather held for another hour or so, and Phil and I thought they'd made it to the bus by the time the rains came, but they missed the one they'd planned on getting and took shelter in a grocery store before making a run for the bus in a downpour.

Phil had an interview to transcribe, but I found myself at loose ends. It occurred to me that this kind of down time is something I'd need to get accustomed to as a retired person. No one waiting for you to call the shots, no one really affected one way or the other what you do or don't do. A humbling thought, but hey a little humility deepens one's perspective. I did a Sudoku, listened to my recorded book, and then curled up under Steve's cream puff of a down comforter and listened to the raindrops clatter against the bedroom window. Doing nothing can be just the ticket on a rainy day, even if it does cramp the ego just a little bit.

By the time we set out for Santa Cruz at 4 pm, the rain had just about let up. We had to circle the downtown area to get to the one way section of Pacific Avenue where Bookshop Santa Cruz is located. Undaunted by the rain, Drew and Tony had visited the Santa Cruz Mission and a few shops before they settled in for a good read at this exceptionally well stocked independent book store. We headed over to Lulu's at the Octagon. The building, on the National Register of Historic Landmarks, was built in 1882 and served as the county hall of records into the 1960s, and yes, it is a perfect octagon made of bricks. Now the shape makes for a cozy coffeehouse and the vacuum press coffee is dee-lish if somewhat expensive.

After the coffee, we headed over to Carpo's to pick up some sandwiches to take to Phil's aunt's house for supper. We had a good time joking about their hamburgers being so good that everything else on the menu tasted like burgers too. Very silly and very fun. Drew and Tony hadn't visited her for almost a year, so there was lots to talk about and lots of joking too. We were happy to see that Sammy the cat was not too shy around us and shared stories about our remarkable cat Fuzz and her unquenchable curiosity.

So Cool, So Soquel

Monday turned out to be relatively clear and warm after a rainy Sunday, so we promised ourselves a little outing after lunch once Phil got his teleconference meetings taken care of. I did some wash and got a list together for shopping at Trader Joe's. I've been trying to maintain a low cholesterol diet with some consistency, but it's challenging to find all the items in just one store.

We decided to avoid Highway 1 and take Soquel Drive instead, which must have been the main drag between all these little beach towns sometime in the past. Phil said it's kind of like driving around in a state park with all the tall trees and deep ravines and I know what he means. You get more of a sense of where one town starts and the other one ends, although we did get kind of turned around looking for Capitola Mall and had to backtrack from Santa Cruz. Getting sidetracked can have its advantages though. We passed a lovely art deco movie theater called the Rio that has been refurbished into a performance space and an interesting looking organic market called Staff of Life. Both Aptos and Soquel refer to areas as Aptos Village and Soquel Village and there are still some vestiges of commercial centers, but they're slowly getting eroded by the franchises and minimalls along the highway.

Once we got to Capitola, we stopped at a Goodwill to pick up some warmer clothes. I got a thermal shirt and Phil got a fleece jacket for wearing around the house. I thought I might learn something about the area from the kinds of things in the thrift store. It was very clean and well organized and had more sports brands like Nike and Adidas in good condition than I had expected, and less furniture and big ticket items than the stores around Long Beach.

The shopping trip at Trader's was a little hectic because Phil had to get back for another teleconference, but we got most of the items on the list. Later, we stopped at Aptos Coffee (Steve very generously bought us a card for 14 cups of coffee). While Phil did a little more work on his laptop, I got more stuff for the diet from the Safeway. While shopping, I noticed many students (from nearbyCabrillo College) and retired people. At the Safeway, I was struck by how many young families (four or five) were shopping together, and throughout the mall, I noticed several homeless people. With as much rain as we've been having, I don't know how they cope. Phil had yet another conference call so we hurried home as soon as I finished shopping.

I got a little blogging time in before supper. We have chicken and tomato sauce with rice and after supper some yummy chocolate cherry soy ice cream as we watched one of Steve's Netflix DVDs, an episode of the PBS series on the National Parks.

Beyond Darkest Carmel-by-the-Sea

Saturday evening, February 20. After leaving Point Lobos, we continued toward Big Sur. Phil had no trouble taking the Fit through the steep twists and turns of the two lane road high above the ocean. It's always fascinating to me to get glimpses of the houses just off the road perched precariously on cliffs, some of them luxurious and some of them tumbledown, and wonder what it's like to live with your back turned firmly to the entire continent. I'd love to give it a try for a month or two as long as it's not too rainy.

We drove just past the Bixby Creek Bridge, the impressive, much photographed span that embodies the Big Sur drive for most people. We pulled over to have a better look and take some photos. Peter had lots to tell us about the engineering of the bridge and he seemed especially energized by seeing it.

Phil has a Carmel restaurant in mind for dinner. He had eaten there before with a golfing buddy and had taken me and our sons once on a rainy day several years ago. Jack London's Grill and Taproom has the comfortable wood-panelled feel of a gentleman's study. It used to be sort of a burger place, but now it is more of a sports bar with big screen televisions and the menu items are more sophisticated and more expensive. We enjoyed steak and shrimp fajitas and wine and beer. Our waiter was a little erratic, which put a damper on things. On the whole, the narrow cobbled streets of Carmel-by-the-Sea embellished with BMWs and countless art galleries do not appeal to me. The lack of street lights seem self consciously precious and inconvenient to the lowly tourists who dare to breech the hyphenated little enclave of the rich and filthy rich. It was a relief to leave the opulence and head for home.

Old Dog Tricked Out a New Way

Friday afternoon, February 19. Although they faced some showers, Phil and Peter soldiered through all 18 holes at nearby Seascape Golf Club. Phil had brought enough clubs for both of them so Peter didn't have to lug his on the plane. When Phil set a tee time in the pro shop, the attendant pulled up his record from Phil's local Parks & Rec membership, saving a lot of time. They also saved money by playing twilight rates, about $30 apiece. Neither of them was familiar with the course; it was hillier and narrower than they were used to and the ground was saturated. The towering eucalyptus trees that frame nearly every hole don't help either. But Phil felt good about transplanting his favorite pastime into his new location, and got in some quality time with his brother who he hasn't seen since last summer. Phil hopes to play the course again before we leave and maybe meet some local golfers with advice on Seascape and other courses in the area. It may be the same old dog, but playing with new people in a new location, tricks it out in a new way.

TIP: Play sports you're familiar with from home. It's easier to meet people and gives perspective on the new area.

When they got home. Phil called his (and Peter's) aunt who lives in Santa Cruz. We ordered some take out sandwiches and fries from one of our cousin's favorite restaurants, Carpo's. It's located in Soquel, a little town between Aptos and Santa Cruz, which made picking up the food convenient, even though we were running a little late after the post golf showers and dressing. It didn't make it any better that the Tomtom GPS didn't give directions once we were inside the rather large trailer park where Phil's aunt lives. After a couple or wrong turns we finally located her.

TIP: Don't depend on GPS if you're traveling in the dark to a place you're unfamiliar with. Bring a map or get directions online before you leave as a back-up.

Phil and Peter had a great time talking about old times with their aunt, and I had a few memories of the family too. Peter hadn't seen her since 1980 so he had a lot of catching up to do, and we all had a good time joking about other people getting older while we all stayed the same.

TIP: Be sure to look up family and friends of the family early on in your trip. Bringing food to their place can be an easy way to visit a residential area you would never visit otherwise without imposing on your host or hostess.

That night we used Skype to talk to our sons back in Long Beach. The online telephone service which incorporates a visual link through video cameras attached to the computer is a great way to stay in contact with friends or family you leave behind during a long trip. Peter talks to his son in Japan using Skype, and we hope to set up a call between Phil's aunt and his mother using Skype, allowing two sisters over 80 who haven't seen each other in over a year and don't expect to make any more cross country flights to share some face-to-face conversation. You can even share screen images (like a photo slide show) between your computers.

A Coast in Wolf's Clothing

Saturday, February 20, was cold and cloudy, but the sky gleamed blue behind to clouds. We had a leisurely morning, working on email and Sudokus, except for Phil and Peter, who had a run along the beach. I'm still trying to build a rapport with Dixie, who mopes around hoping her master will show up. After lunch, we piled in the car and headed south toward Monterey. Peter especially wanted to see Point Lobos, but since we got off to a late start, we weren't expecting to have much of a hike.

We stopped for coffee in Cannery Row at Cafe La Strada overlooking Monterey Bay. It's an upscale cafe attached to the Monterey Plaza Hotel and Spa, and we enjoyed the comings and goings of the well dressed crowd over elegant white cups of delicious coffee and a sweet roll shared between the three of us. A bride posed for wedding photos with the ocean as her backdrop, which reminded us of Peter's daughter's wedding last summer and got us to talking about all our children and how they'd grown up before our very eyes. We looked out over the bay and watched the waves mark time.

We drove south and stopped again at Lover's Point in Pacific Grove. We got a great parking place and walked out to the rocky point with a great view of another wedding in progress, or was it the same one -- the bride's gown did look awfully familiar. The men went right to brink of the rugged outcropping, and I stayed behind watching a couple with their pants turned up to their knees standing in a tide pool and eagerly studying whatever the waves brought their way. The water eddies and swirls around the rocky point with beautiful, almost translucent aqua patches brightening the dark surf. When we got back to the car, the windshield was doused with sea gull poop. Now we know why we got such a good place to park.

Riding past the cypress shrouded campus of Asilomar Conference Grounds, I remembered staying here with Phil when we visited Mark Anderson over 30 years ago. It was such a magical place and we were so young and ready to believe in magic. The area has been developed since then with several well appointed ocean view homes, but the insistent rush of waves remains the same, bringing the power and the secrets of the Pacific deep up to the stony beach. There always seem to be people here strolling on the boardwalks looking out toward the horizon absorbing those secrets -- conference goers, kite fliers, and kids with plastic pails.

The land rises as we approach Point Lobos State Natural Reserve with tall eucalyptus and evergreens making the ridge seem even more foreboding. I've read somewhere that Robert Louis Stevenson used this area for inspiration for the pirates' lair in Treasure Island, and even now the demarcation between the minimalls of cozy suburban Pacific Grove and the wild abandon of the nature reserve is very clear. A deer crossed the winding road on the approach to the entrance, but luckily the car in front of us braked in time for the graceful creature to clamber up the bank and disappear into the underbrush.

Many cars huddle along the road just before entrance. Tourists walk into the park to avoid the $10 entrance fee. Peter generously paid for us, but I still resented the price until I saw how patchy the asphalt road was and later how eroded the footpaths were. Then I felt the money to maintain this place was well worth it. We had to drive in a ways past Whaler's Cove and the cypress grove before we found a parking place near the piney woods.

As we walked along the path above the rocky shore, I thought of the subtitle of the Point Lobos website -- "the greatest meeting of land and water in the world." The water catches your attention first as it writhes and twists, forced by opposing currents into frothy swells far offshore. As the water crests and billows toward the land, it crashes against dark ragged rock, sometimes breaking into explosions of salt spray reaching up a hundred feet and sometimes disappearing into unseen hollows with supernaturally deep booming sounds. The eroded land formations are almost as fascinating as the everchanging water. Gradations of many colors -- from goldenrod to brick red to coal black -- make beautiful patterns on the rock, and every now and then, weird eroded shapes loom up, pocked with smaller stones embedded in the surfaces.

Peter had read about the Devil's Cauldron and we searched the shore for it. Finally, we saw what appears to be steam emerging from a hole in the rock about ten feet above the water level. A larger wave rolled in, and after a few seconds delay, we heard a boom and then water gushed out of the hole like gigantic insolent spittile. We watched the show several times and Peter got a good video. We moved on toward the sea lion rocks, but were disappointed to find that the path was closed to get a close look even though we could hear the barking and make out the sleek black bodies lumbering around on the small group of islands about fifty yards out in the ocean.

Soon we turned back and Phil and Peter climbed up on a high overlook. Peter got soaked when one of the waves splashed high enough to reach him. Both men took lots of pictures of the moody sea, now made even more dramatic as the setting sun broke through the clouds from time to time and made bright patches in water and shadows in the craggy rock. We were all quiet on the drive out, a little drained by the walk in the cool weather and full of images of the beautiful scenery.

San Francisco -- Not Quite My Kind of Town

Thursday, February 18, Phil's cousin left for Bangalore, India. We took Highway 1 along the coast north from Santa Cruz, trying to convince ourselves that the dense fog was sure to burn off by lunchtime. The rugged hills and lonely beaches had a mysterious appeal to me. What would it be like to spend time in one of the weather-beaten cabins overlooking the steel grey ocean?

After dropping Steve off at SFO, Phil, Peter (his brother here for a long weekend), and I headed up to "the city" as Steve advised us that locals call San Francisco. With the help of a Tomtom GPS, we limped through a few traffic jams and then past the Golden Gate Park and into the heart of the Presidio. Phil turned our trusty Honda Fit at just the moment to land us in the parking lot adjacent to the Golden Gate Bridge. The fog varied from dense to pea soup thick as we walked halfway across the bridge's nearly two mile span. The poor visibility frustrated me, but I was pleased to see that the pedestrian walk is wide enough to accommodate walkers and bikers heading in both directions.

We got back in the car and headed crosstown to North Beach, but hunger set in and a parking space appeared as if by magic on Union Street. We hurried into Crepes A Go Go, a tiny place with a funky ambience and great service. The coffee, served by a friendly young woman with a convincing French accent, was strong and the crepes were tender. I had nutella (hazelnut chocolate sauce) and bananas and the two gentlemen had heartier fillings followed by a crepe with butter and sugar. Before we left, Phil and Peter had a friendly chat with a young man double parked and blocking us in, but in no particular hurry to move his car. He was waiting for his ex-girlfriend to buy chocolates. Oh those inscrutable San Franciscans! We'll never know why the woman couldn't have found his bright red pickup if he backed up three or four feet.

We parked at one of the piers at the Embarcadero and walked up the overgrown gardens along the stairs climbing up Telegraph Hill. Phil and I are great fans of the film called The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill and have made this trek before in hopes of spotting the parrots and for the view from Coit Tower in Pioneer Park. The fog had let up a little. We could see Alcatraz Island, but the bridges were still elusive. We didn't pay to go to the top of the tower, but enjoyed the depression-era murals on the ground level. We descended into North Beach and then climbed Russian Hill, where the flock of wild parrots swirled by us with a flurry of swawks and glinting feathers. At the summit we looked in wonder at the cars perched head in on the steeply pitched residential when a man came roaring up the incline and then just as quickly retreated (in reverse) down the roller coaster steep slope. Note to self: don't drive on Russian Hill.

We had a little trouble finding the Cable Car Museum, a favorite of ours not only because it's free but also it has lots of fascinating information on the 1906 earthquake and how cable cars work including the huge power wheels that drive the few existing cable cars. Then we plunged into the frantic crowds shopping in Chinatown. Fish of every size and color flapped their fins in shallow tanks in one shop while next door shelves rose up the wall twelve feet or higher, full of see-through bins filled with exotic herbs and roots. As we struggled to make our way along the crowded sidewalks, vendors popped out of every door, extolling the quality of their wares in loud, insistent Chinese.

After the hubbub of Chinatown, the hushed hipness of the City Lights Books was a welcome relief. I love the hodge podge of shelves here, placed at odd angles so close together, and the wild assortment of fiction from around the world, but there's a sort of smug intellectualism that can only be rivalled by Harvard Square. Night had fallen by the time we left, so we searched North Beach for an Italian restaurant that matched our appetites and wallets. Calzone's Pizza Cucina fit the bill perfectly. The decor combined the traditional -- black and white tiles and shelves lined with pasta tins and olive oil bottles -- with cutting edge modern --triangular plates and exposed light bulbs hung over every table. We had no trouble finishing off an arugula salad with walnuts and cranberries and asparagus orzo.

The conversation turned to what a magical city San Francisco is. Try as I might, I cannot agree wholeheartedly. Despite the hills upon hills and the charmingly impractical citizens, San Francisco seems like a New York City wannabe -- not quite as culturally diverse, not quite as culturally aware, not quite as culturally rich. But as I massaged my aching feet on the car trip home, I had to admit that however lacking this city may be, it easily had me whupped up and down the block.

We're been Spotted

I'm so happy and proud to that we have a follower! Erik's Delicafe, offering fresh sandwiches and other goodies throughout the Bay Area, has spotted us and we will definitely return the favor. There are shops in Aptos and Santa Cruz and prices run between $5.99 and $6.49 and they offer half-sandwiches two. A good sandwich shop can be a day-tripper's spare time, supplying an easily transportable lunch or a quick dinner while you're on the road. The website claims you get a free sandwich for signing up to their e-mail promotions. We'll see how that turns out.

Capitola by the Sea

The surf, the sand, and the quaint cottages snuggled on the hillside add up to another perfect California day at the beach in Capitola. The town has a long history of luring tourists with its Mediterranean charm and awesome waves. Walk along the Esplanade or explore the idyllic beach houses on the back streets. Paradise Beach Grille, Gayle's Bakery and Roticceria, Cava Wine Bar, and the Shadowbrook Restaurant are eateries to try.

Pizza Pie-sibilities

What makes a place more like home than finding a dependable pizzeria? Sunset Magazine listed a bunch of San Francisco restaurants with tempting pizzas.

Pizetta 211 -- 211 23rd Avenue; only 4 tables; less busy at lunch; order Margherita

Flour + Water -- 2401 Harrison Street (Mission District); opens at 5:30; order blistered radicchio with chiles and pancetta

Tony's Pizza Napoletana -- 1570 Stockton Street; order deep-fried meatball calzone or Margherita

Pizzeria Delfina -- 3611 18th Street AND 2406 California Street; order broccoli rabe plus black olives and fresh mozzarella or order a ball of dough and make one at home

Gialina -- 2842 Diamond Street; order wild nettles with pancetta, provolone, mushrooms, and red onion with cappucino Italian ice for dessert

Pulcinella -- 641 Valeho Street; closed Monday; order eggplant and zucchini; you can make reservations