March 28
Today was primarily a driving day.
Today was primarily a driving day.
We stopped in Venice because I always wanted to see it. The canals that used to run all over the city have now shrunk in number to only six. We did see one, but could not find parking to walk along it.
We checked out the walkway along the beach.
Because we got there so early in the day, the street performers were not yet out—I’m sure most of them had only been in bed a couple of hours. But we did see the funky little shops where you can buy anything you can imagine, and a few things you probably hadn’t thought of.
There was an open air fitness club with every piece of workout equipment imaginable. It was the ultimate “show off” place. Every paddle tennis court was in use. That looked really interesting.
this sport could be tailor made for baby boomers who no longer can run so well and would appreciate the smaller court.
The hand ball courts were also fully occupied, including one at which two men were playing a unique game involving lacrosse sticks. The bicycle path along the beach was busy, and we learned quickly that walking on it is not appreciated.
We had to leave the highway to drive through Santa Monica, just because. It actually reminded me a lot of Boulder, CO—much the same look and atmosphere. The pier has a Ferris wheel and “mouse” roller coaster and other amusements. It resembled an upscale Santa Cruz pier. I would have loved to have seen it at night with all the lights reflecting in the waves.
Malibu announces at city edge that it is 27 miles of scenic beauty. I wouldn’t disagree. Incredible homes squeeze in between the beach and the highway in places and cling to the hillsides on the other side of the roadway. On top of the hills are sprawling estates the size of small towns. Every type of architecture you can think of is represented.
My favorite part of the drive was with the ocean on one side and the Santa Monica Mountains (well actually they are more like foothills) on the other. I practically got whiplash trying to see both sides of the car at once and not miss anything. In places there were canyons stretching back into the hills that looked like they needed exploring.
We drove through the central coast wine region (which I didn’t know existed). The vineyards come down right to the highway. The vintners have thoughtfully posted signs on many of the rows of vines explaining what type of wine will be made from those grapes. Tom had not heard of any of the wineries that had signs posted, so we will have to watch for those brands to try them someday. I still think the Finger Lakes region is the most beautiful wine country I have ever seen.
Near Oxnard were acres and acres of strawberries ripening in the sun. It reminded me somewhat of Watsonville. Tomorrow we plan on stopping at an organic farm stand and getting fresh berries since we will be in the same room more than one night and will have a chance to finish them. Tom wanted to know if I planned on dipping any in chocolate. I think not.
There were also huge sod farms in the same area. I always am a little amazed at the idea of growing lawn grass to cut it into sections and sell it. The whole idea seems odd to me.
Along one stretch of the highway in the area there was an approximately two mile stretch of shoulder parked solid with RV’s and campers. They were packed in so tightly, head to toe, that only a very thin person could step between them. Fifth wheel units were unconnected and set up. There were awnings and lawn furniture and all they needed to vacation. They were literarily on the edge of the roadway, and had only about three feet of space between the trailers and the large rocks that protect the beach. Kind of a bizarre “camp ground”.
We did stop at one Mission, Mission Santa Barbara. We could have done most of the Mission Trail on this trip, but I find it difficult to stop at them anymore. Having done some research on Fr. Junipero Serra, I shudder at that part of our history. He founded 21 missions, with Mission Santa Barbara being the last one. In an attempt to “civilize” the natives, he rounded them up into communal barracks at the missions and forced them to raise cattle and crops as slave labor. Thousands died from ill treatment and the European illnesses for which they had no immunity. But the military posts by each mission thrived and in time became the basis for the first permanent settlements in California.
Anyway, Mission Santa Barbara is a beautiful building. It was destroyed once by earthquake and once by fire and has been completely restored. In addition to the usual adobe style building, there are colorful Moorish touches—very pretty.
The hand ball courts were also fully occupied, including one at which two men were playing a unique game involving lacrosse sticks. The bicycle path along the beach was busy, and we learned quickly that walking on it is not appreciated.
We had to leave the highway to drive through Santa Monica, just because. It actually reminded me a lot of Boulder, CO—much the same look and atmosphere. The pier has a Ferris wheel and “mouse” roller coaster and other amusements. It resembled an upscale Santa Cruz pier. I would have loved to have seen it at night with all the lights reflecting in the waves.
Malibu announces at city edge that it is 27 miles of scenic beauty. I wouldn’t disagree. Incredible homes squeeze in between the beach and the highway in places and cling to the hillsides on the other side of the roadway. On top of the hills are sprawling estates the size of small towns. Every type of architecture you can think of is represented.
My favorite part of the drive was with the ocean on one side and the Santa Monica Mountains (well actually they are more like foothills) on the other. I practically got whiplash trying to see both sides of the car at once and not miss anything. In places there were canyons stretching back into the hills that looked like they needed exploring.
We drove through the central coast wine region (which I didn’t know existed). The vineyards come down right to the highway. The vintners have thoughtfully posted signs on many of the rows of vines explaining what type of wine will be made from those grapes. Tom had not heard of any of the wineries that had signs posted, so we will have to watch for those brands to try them someday. I still think the Finger Lakes region is the most beautiful wine country I have ever seen.
Near Oxnard were acres and acres of strawberries ripening in the sun. It reminded me somewhat of Watsonville. Tomorrow we plan on stopping at an organic farm stand and getting fresh berries since we will be in the same room more than one night and will have a chance to finish them. Tom wanted to know if I planned on dipping any in chocolate. I think not.
There were also huge sod farms in the same area. I always am a little amazed at the idea of growing lawn grass to cut it into sections and sell it. The whole idea seems odd to me.
Along one stretch of the highway in the area there was an approximately two mile stretch of shoulder parked solid with RV’s and campers. They were packed in so tightly, head to toe, that only a very thin person could step between them. Fifth wheel units were unconnected and set up. There were awnings and lawn furniture and all they needed to vacation. They were literarily on the edge of the roadway, and had only about three feet of space between the trailers and the large rocks that protect the beach. Kind of a bizarre “camp ground”.
We did stop at one Mission, Mission Santa Barbara. We could have done most of the Mission Trail on this trip, but I find it difficult to stop at them anymore. Having done some research on Fr. Junipero Serra, I shudder at that part of our history. He founded 21 missions, with Mission Santa Barbara being the last one. In an attempt to “civilize” the natives, he rounded them up into communal barracks at the missions and forced them to raise cattle and crops as slave labor. Thousands died from ill treatment and the European illnesses for which they had no immunity. But the military posts by each mission thrived and in time became the basis for the first permanent settlements in California.
Anyway, Mission Santa Barbara is a beautiful building. It was destroyed once by earthquake and once by fire and has been completely restored. In addition to the usual adobe style building, there are colorful Moorish touches—very pretty.
The Church is still in use as a Franciscan-led parish. There is a lovely old fountain out in front which the tourists use as a wishing well and some handsome men pose in front of.
Chalk drawings on the sidewalk by the Mission
There are also nice clean restrooms, which we appreciated as much as the beauty of the setting. Most of these snobby little coastal towns and cites do not allow fast food places, which makes “necessary” stops a challenge.
We are spending the night in El Paso De Robles. If someone who speaks Spanish could tell me what that means I would appreciate it! Tomorrow the Hearst castle is on the agenda before we head into familiar territory where we have visited many times.
We are spending the night in El Paso De Robles. If someone who speaks Spanish could tell me what that means I would appreciate it! Tomorrow the Hearst castle is on the agenda before we head into familiar territory where we have visited many times.
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