Los Angeles
Tuesday
3rd July
Suddenly
we are in Santa Monica and to get there we experienced the reality
that LA really "is a great big free-way". This is the start
of a trip that is a series of songs in our heads that just does not
stop running as we go along singing "Santa Monica Boulevard"
.
Everybody
says nobody walks in LA and everybody drives and to a certain extent
that is true. However, the strange, distressed, poor and dispossessed
are all riding the cross town bus, as well as us benighted tourists
Celia
observes that the bus drivers are the glue that holds this city
together as they explain where they are going to the witless for the
umpteenth time, patiently listen whilst the lonely talk at them for
their whole ride, wait until the bag lady has got her seat before
they drive off, help us get our ticket out of the machine, and give
off an air of authority and control that we are grateful for on these
wacky journeys.
Having
said all that, this was how we got to meet the LA inhabitants, who
were a friendly bunch, if slightly mad. Also, the bus is really,
really cheap. Only $3 to get all the way across town.
We had
caught a shuttle bus from the airport to a bus terminus and then
another one that took us to Santa Monica, where we got off and had a
look at the Pier with it's fun fair and the beach before grabbing
something to eat and getting a grumpy taxi driver to take us to our
AirBnB rental where we managed to sleep through the night and shake
off the worst of our jet lag.
Santa
Monica
Wednesday
4th of July!
We wake
up and go for "Breakfast In America" to a local up-market
diner called Izzy's. It's open 24/7, 365 days a year and Izzy is
behind the counter. We sit in a booth and the waiter says "What
can I get yer?" We look at each other and Celia orders pancakes
and John eggs "easy over". That amuses the waiter, but he
knows what John means.
Everything
seems so familiar because we know all about the USA from the TV and
films. At the same time it is also completely alien and new as,
although we know what the street signs say, we often don't really
know what they mean. The same goes for bus stops or descriptors of
any kind. We really are two nations divided by a common language.
John spends all his time asking "What does that mean?"
Walking
down the street there are plenty of homeless wandering about, talking
to themselves. One morning when we were waiting at a bus stop a
whole stream of them went by one after the other all eating a
MacDonald’s burger and clutching a drink. It seems like the
handouts happen at certain times in certain places and they had all
just been to get theirs.
So, it's
the 4th of July and we catch the bus to Pacific Palisades High
School, for the evening celebration of music supplied by an offshoot
of The Beat. They are called the English Beat and have been making a
very nice living out here since the 80's so it was fun hearing all
the old 'Mirror In The Bathroom' type hits and watching America
celebrate independence.
The fireworks were stupendous and it was a
warm evening. They were quite a mellow crowd but everyone stands up
for the national anthem - no exceptions and no sense of irony or
feeling a bit stupid like us Brits often do.
We get
the bus back and as we walk to our digs the police are in the process
of arresting two men, one being handcuffed on the ground and another
in an alley already cuffed, and we skirt round them sharpish.
Generally though, we are in a very nice area of the city and
everything is cool.
Getty
Centre, LA
Thursday
5th July
The
Getty Center (sic) is set up high in the hills and to get there is a
couple of buses to the entrance down on the free-way.
The
start of your visit is on a monorail up through the grounds to the
entrance proper. It's a fabulous modern set of buildings in
immaculate, beautiful landscaped grounds and gardens.
It contained a
great collection of Herb Ritz photos in one gallery, Gustav Klimt
paintings and drawings in another, ancient German religious works in
another, modern art elsewhere, sculpture in the grounds and great
vistas all around. The food is excellent too.
The
bus journey back was enlivened by two teenage girls who heard us
speaking and said they loved our accent. They wanted to know if
England was in London, whether we had our own language that we spoke,
and if we had a king (we are not joking). However, they were very
enthusiastic and had great fun learning how to say "Alright
mate, how's it going?" in mockney from John.
Los
Angeles to Santa Paula
Friday
6th July
Our most
interesting and final bus journey was also our longest as we had to
catch 4 buses to get over to Hawthorne where we were to pick up our
Jucy camper van. It cost $6 in total, whereas the taxi would have
been around $60.
At the end of a 3 hour journey, Celia was not so
sure of the wisdom and economy that John had propounded at the start
of the day, particularly when we were stuck with our two suitcases in
a desperately poor and dodgy part of town for about 30 minutes, at a
crossroads with really worrying people around us. The sort who don't
even ride the bus. Having said that, nobody bothered us at all, but
we would have become of interest if we had been there much longer.
With Chris from Jucy |
We got
in the camper van, "We're On The Road Again", and set off
in the rush hour traffic, heading for the Pacific Coast Highway,
going north through Malibu to "Ventura Highway, in the
sunshine". It was only once we had cleared the city that we
both relaxed, breathed out and realised that LA is a pretty intense
place. "If
You're Going To San Francisco", it's a 400 mile journey and we
had 10 days to get there, so we didn't' go too far the first day.
The contrast with the city was very marked when we arrived at friendly, laid back Santa Paula and checked into our first US camp site in the early evening on the outskirts of town. It's a small country place lying a little inland up in the hills. It has a main street, and we discovered in lots of other small towns too, Friday night is vintage car cruise night. They shut the main street to through traffic and people come down and park their beautiful old cars, pick-ups and vans and everyone comes to admire them and generally be sociable.
The contrast with the city was very marked when we arrived at friendly, laid back Santa Paula and checked into our first US camp site in the early evening on the outskirts of town. It's a small country place lying a little inland up in the hills. It has a main street, and we discovered in lots of other small towns too, Friday night is vintage car cruise night. They shut the main street to through traffic and people come down and park their beautiful old cars, pick-ups and vans and everyone comes to admire them and generally be sociable.
The
local Mexican diner had a special on with a Tijuana disco and tacos
and lemonade; a few people were dancing dangerously. Garmans Irish
Pub had a band of old boys playing country music and the dance floor
was full. Drinks were being slung back with gusto and a lot of fun
was being had. We ate stew and drank Guinness and watched everyone
relaxing on a Friday night after a week's work.
Back at
the camp site our colourful camper caused a stir because most RVs
(motor homes) here are huge and generally white. Everyone
wanted to be shown what it contained, how it worked and were
intrigued how everything fitted into it. We were immediately invited
over to share drinks and chat with a family from Ojai, a town about
25 miles away, and it sounded so lovely, we planned to include it as
part of our trip.
That's the great thing about camping, you always meet people. We sat under a starry sky in the cool evening air round their fire. You can immediately understand why people like living here – its the climate . . . days are hot and sunny and nights are deliciously cool.
That's the great thing about camping, you always meet people. We sat under a starry sky in the cool evening air round their fire. You can immediately understand why people like living here – its the climate . . . days are hot and sunny and nights are deliciously cool.
Detail
of the Day: Americans are very curious, love anything new, are
not afraid to ask questions, are enthusiastic, and friendly. So if
you want to be a grump and on your own, don't go camping in the US.
But if you like people, then this is the place for you!
Santa
Paula
Saturday
7th July
We need
some things to make van life complete, namely a teapot and kettle, so
we head for the town thrift store (secondhand shop) and are
successful on both counts for about $8 total. We also need camping
chairs as they are missing from our van and notice a yard sale
(garage/car boot sale) sign and stop to take a look.
The home
owner immediately strikes up a conversation about where we are from
and what are we doing. He has one chair but then his Dad offers to
give us one from his barn if we just follow him back up to his place.
So off we go and sure enough he gives us a chair (stars and stripes
as it happens) and then takes Celia on a tour of his orchard and
picks a huge bag of avocados, grapefruits, lemons and oranges for us
to take away. Such kind people. An amazing morning. We do seem to
be in the Land of Plenty.
In the
evening we take a walk around the camp site and down to the stream
and swimming hole and hear hymns in the distance. We learn there is
a Christian camp up the road having a prayer gathering
Santa Paula to Pismo Beach
Sunday
8th July
Visited
Ojai, a pretty little town (we're told Rees Witherspoon lives here
and is always around but we don't spot her). Drove on to Carpenteria
and had lunch at the beach.
The
Spanish Mission town of classy Santa Barbara with it's beautiful
ocean front, pretty adobe style houses rising up the hill to the
ancient mission "I heard the mission bell ring" (The Eagles
are on the radio all the time - yes we are back in the 70's again)
bathed in gorgeous afternoon light, was very appealing.
We toured the old and interesting Mission, which was founded in 1789, enjoying the gardens and the cool of the quiet church on such a hot day
We passed a Scrapstore too, closed unfortunately, but John still found it very exciting.
We toured the old and interesting Mission, which was founded in 1789, enjoying the gardens and the cool of the quiet church on such a hot day
We passed a Scrapstore too, closed unfortunately, but John still found it very exciting.
We got back on the road for a
long run to our camp site at Pismo Beach where a chicken salad
dinner, bottle of wine and a game of scrabble awaited us, plus the
usual stream of people interested in our van. It was the sort of
site that was just this side of 'trailer trash' with some interesting
and colourful permanent residents.
Detail
of the Day: US camp sites advertise how wonderful they are and
when you arrive the reception is usually very nice indeed, with a
smart desk, friendly, uniformed staff and a shop but they do not have
anything like the facilities you find in Australia and New Zealand.
That is to say, not enough toilets and showers, and not the best
hygiene standards either. There is always a line (queue) and they
are overused and prone to being grubby and often broken as a result
Pismo
Beach to Big Sur
Monday 9th July
Monday 9th July
What a fabulous drive along the coast road to reach the Big Sur. Wild flowers abound and each curve brings dramatic views of hills, cliffs and coast.
We stop at San Simeon and stand on a windy bluff, mesmerised, as we gaze down at the elephant seals as they constantly roar, fight and roll in the surf or sleep and snore in the sunshine. The noise of the bulls was one thing, but the general smell was another. We also spotted a sea otter bobbing along on its back in the waves.
The
road goes through the Los Padres National Forest and we start to see
huge redwoods and the air is full of the scent of pines, mountain
sage, thyme and other wild plants and herbs.
We
camped at Fernwood, down a steep track to the site that sits on a
bend of the Big Sur river and got the last spot available that day.
It is dusky and warm down in this dell and the light is diffused by
these giant trees. You can hear the river and we take a walk along
and see the swimming holes and dams that children make each day. The
atmosphere is very special.
Each pitch has a fire grate and we bought firewood and cooked dinner and sat and watched the flames and felt positively like pioneers. We were joined by our inquisitive neighbours Randy and Cecilia and their two young children from San Jose (yes, they did know the way) - seems most of the people we met along this route were Californians exploring their home state.
We shared our wine with them and they introduced us to an American camp fire tradition called 'S'mores'. This is a concoction that cannot be beat: take two Graham crackers (these are a plain and slightly sweet, dense, crisp biscuit) place some Hershey Bar chocolate on one and set it on the edge of the fire to warm up a bit, toast a marshmallow and then place it on the warmed biscuit and chocolate, then put the other Graham cracker on top and eat it. They are rich and very moreish, though eating more than two can be a challenge!
Big
Sur to Salinas
Tuesday
10th
July
We slept
so well in the scented air and it was so cool and fresh down in the
woods, that we woke late and made a lazy way along more of the
Pacific Highway, stopping at small maritime reserves and beaches to
stroll and enjoy the unique flora of this stretch of coast with the
mountains protecting it all.
At the Point Lobos State Reserve near Carmel we took a looping walk through the coves and trees and were rewarded with rare views of a mother sea otter and her pup, relaxing in the calm water below us in a small cove. The mother floating on her back and the pup lying across her.
Formations of Pelicans flew past at eye level, while turkey buzzards feasted on young gull chicks on a small island a hundred yards away. We saw blue jays and chickadees and much more we didn't recognise. It was all completely fabulous!
We ate
our lunch by a lake outside Monterey and were chatted to by a woman
who pulled into the car park and who appeared to be living in her
van, but the vibe felt a little odd. Then an expensive black car
pulled up and a heavy dude got out and exchanged something with her
and left just as quickly after looking us over and deciding we were
'mostly harmless'. All slightly surreal, so it was time to move on,
and we did, as did she. Of course we were singing “It happened in
Monterey”.
We camped at Prunedale “Somewhere near Salinas” and experienced the first of the famous chilly coastal mists that are common around this part of the country and understood why Mark Twain wrote that “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”.
We camped at Prunedale “Somewhere near Salinas” and experienced the first of the famous chilly coastal mists that are common around this part of the country and understood why Mark Twain wrote that “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”.
Prunedale
to Pacifica
Wednesday
11th July
Slightly
inland in the early morning, travelling through fruit growing
country, all the signs are in Spanish and English. This area has the
richest soil ever and can support a huge harvest so there are many
seasonal workers here and we stopped at a small Mexican diner in
Watsonville for a proper Cal/Mex breakfast.
It was like Rose's Cantina and the pretty Mexican girl behind the counter spoke no English, so we pointed at what we wanted and something entirely different was delivered to our table. But it all tasted good and was very cheap, although there was far too much of everything, as there is on any plate of food you order here.
It was like Rose's Cantina and the pretty Mexican girl behind the counter spoke no English, so we pointed at what we wanted and something entirely different was delivered to our table. But it all tasted good and was very cheap, although there was far too much of everything, as there is on any plate of food you order here.
We
went on up past Santa Cruz and turned inland through Boulder Creek to
the Big Basin Redwoods State Park and took a walk among the ancient
giant redwoods. They are breathtakingly beautiful.
We took the wonderfully named Skyline Boulevard that snakes along a ridge overlooking San Francisco Bay, through National Parks and Reserves in glorious sunshine.
Cutting down to the coast, the mist started rolling in to meet us and by the time we reached our camp site at Half Moon Bay just outside San Francisco, we knew we were camped on the cliff looking out to sea but wouldn't have known it because you could see nothing.
Pacifica to Petaluma
We took the wonderfully named Skyline Boulevard that snakes along a ridge overlooking San Francisco Bay, through National Parks and Reserves in glorious sunshine.
Cutting down to the coast, the mist started rolling in to meet us and by the time we reached our camp site at Half Moon Bay just outside San Francisco, we knew we were camped on the cliff looking out to sea but wouldn't have known it because you could see nothing.
Pacifica to Petaluma
Thursday
12th and Friday 13th July
The
fog is just as bad in the morning and when we are asked by our
neighbours “Are You Going To San Francisco?”, we tell them we are
just passing through to get to the sunny weather in the hills beyond
the city. The
city of San Francisco remained a mystery to us as we drove through
foggy early morning streets and the Golden Gate Bridge loomed up out
of the mist and all we saw were a few struts as we passed over the
bay.
As
soon as we were out of town and into the hills around Petaluma it was
gorgeous again and we went to Calistoga and saw a version of the 'Old
Faithful' geyser and the small bamboo forest that grows round it.
Detail of the Day: Camping at Petaluma we met a Canadian and his family from Prince George called Robin Ford who came over to say hello and look at our camper van. We shared a glass of wine and it turned out he emigrated to Canada from the UK when he was 18 and guess where from? Nempnett Thrubwell! His cousin Peter Ford runs the family farm there.
This is the next village to Ubley where we will be living on our return – spooky eh?
Detail of the Day: Camping at Petaluma we met a Canadian and his family from Prince George called Robin Ford who came over to say hello and look at our camper van. We shared a glass of wine and it turned out he emigrated to Canada from the UK when he was 18 and guess where from? Nempnett Thrubwell! His cousin Peter Ford runs the family farm there.
This is the next village to Ubley where we will be living on our return – spooky eh?
A friendly Canadian called Stephen visited later to drink wine and eat cheese with us and invited us over to his family gathering for more wine and fun round their fire. The second night we visited them and had S'mores and we introduced them to bananas with chocolate baked in foil on the fire. Their teenage son didn't say much but halfway through eating his banana he looked up and said “Why have we never had these before?” then continued to munch on.
As we mentioned earlier, Americans are inquisitive, and we had countless visitors to see our green and purple Jucy camper van and ask questions, and in the end we would take it in turns to talk to them all. Children particularly loved it and always wanted to climb up the ladder to the pop up bedroom. When we got back from shopping, the kids cycled past saying “Yea! The Jucy van is back!”. We felt rather like celebrities.
Petaluma to Cloverdale
Saturday
14th July
Petaluma
has a lovely old centre and a grand old post office, as so many of
these small towns do. We duly posted Lucky Charms cereals to James
and Katie as requested – that cost a lot more in postage than it
was to buy them!
The old wooden farm buildings and gardens set the, bucolic and laid-back, scene that belies the intense commercial activity of this business. We did the $15 dollar wine tasting and bought 6 bottles of wine then went on through beautiful country of winding roads and woods to a camp site at Cloverdale.
Set by a lake with wooded hills all round, we spotted deer and loads of lovely birds. The sky was full of stars and the moon lit up the whole place as we cooked our food on the camp fire and drank wine with our delightful neighbours, Mark and Penny, from Kansas.
Cloverdale
to Petaluma
Sunday
15th July
There
was a bike race on the road and we got slightly lost but got to see
the State Troopers directing the traffic and yes they do wear those
big hats with a wide brim and rather smart they look too. As a
result of getting lost we ended up in charming old Windsor and it
had a farmers market so we could get great local produce and of
course chat to loads of people.
Back down in Petaluma it was sunny Sunday lunch time and we sat watching a very good jazz quartet and a friend of theirs turned up and started singing with them and we lazed the day away.
Back down in Petaluma it was sunny Sunday lunch time and we sat watching a very good jazz quartet and a friend of theirs turned up and started singing with them and we lazed the day away.
Back at the camp site our new neighbours were a large extended family group from Oakland with first and second generation Mexican roots, including Leticia, who sent us over a dish of their marinated beef and rice. Then we were invited over later and shared wine and they shared their stuffed chillies and nachos with melted cheese – mmmmmm.
We
sat talking with their teenagers about their lives and they asked us
about where we had been and they were lovely people.
Petaluma to San Francisco
Petaluma to San Francisco
Monday
16th July
All too soon it is time for us to return our camper van, wishing we had more time to explore but we have a date in Canada that cannot be changed, so we get back to San Francisco and this time we can see all of the Golden Gate Bridge and the sweep of the bay. So as the old song goes “Open up those golden gates, California here I come!”
All too soon it is time for us to return our camper van, wishing we had more time to explore but we have a date in Canada that cannot be changed, so we get back to San Francisco and this time we can see all of the Golden Gate Bridge and the sweep of the bay. So as the old song goes “Open up those golden gates, California here I come!”
The BART rail system is efficient and easy to use and we soon get the hang of it once we found our way out of Oakland where we dropped the van off.
We're
staying down town near Union Square In the small Post Hotel with the
creakiest and oldest elevator we have ever see and hold our breath
each time we use it. The area is seemingly full of freaks, beggars
and nutters, presumably drawn there by all the tourists, or
flashbacks of the 60's.
The trams are a mix of the really old, that
you have to queue up to use, and the modern as well and these add to
the individuality of the city. The architecture is grand and
beautiful with lots of interesting features, and it's good just
walking around, although you do have to avoid the panhandling weirdos
and there are plenty of them as night falls.
Food choice here is amazing and we choose Sushi, drink sake and go to bed early, because tomorrow it's a two flight journey via Vancouver to get ourselves up to Whitehorse, state capital of Yukon Territory in Canada.
California has been a classic road trip experience and we've really enjoyed ourselves and are glad that we will be coming back to the USA as there is going to be so much more to see. Especially as we get the strong feeling that each state is going to have it's own identity and ways, apart from changing scenery.
Food choice here is amazing and we choose Sushi, drink sake and go to bed early, because tomorrow it's a two flight journey via Vancouver to get ourselves up to Whitehorse, state capital of Yukon Territory in Canada.
California has been a classic road trip experience and we've really enjoyed ourselves and are glad that we will be coming back to the USA as there is going to be so much more to see. Especially as we get the strong feeling that each state is going to have it's own identity and ways, apart from changing scenery.
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