Hey there, amigos. I feel as guilty as a parent who just sent their kid to fat camp. Just haven’t written in so long. I know you’ve been waiting for an update, friends, all four of you. Lo siento on that one.
We’ve been busy as I’m sure you all have for the Fourth and all. We excitedly returned to the coast of California, just north of where we left off (Malibu). Some mountains and preserved wilderness contain Los Angeles’ mess to the east of Malibu beach. Safely situated to the north, along the coast, is a town called Oxnard where normal people live. I got a haircut there.
Citrus farms surround the highway leading to this area. You can smell the acres covered with these fruit plants. Next morning we checked out Ventura, CA, which had the best farmers market I’ve ever seen. It was here that Matt procured some delicious poison strawberries.
Matt had heard somewhere about the Channel Islands, a series of smallish islands about 20 miles off the S. Cal coast. A little like the Galapagos, they have some weird biology going on due to evolution, Native Americans, and most of all, European settlers. We found a company that shuttles people over for day trips and campouts, so we went over for a day. We awoke in the local Wal-Mart parking lot and hurried over, just in time to catch the boat early in the morning. It was a cold morning, too, and we saw a number of seals warming themselves on rocks and buoys as the boat departed.
We ended up in a small group led by a young ranger with dreadlocks. She pointed out indigenous plants and invaders as we hiked around a path that led through about five small canyons along the coast. A small friendly-looking fox appeared and scampered down the path while we took a break. The scenery was great and we enjoyed the sun while the mainland was blanketed with fog. There was an amusing but odd little family on the tour as well—a slightly haggard mom with two little daughters who were all decked out in enough layers to survive a winter in the tundra. The older daughter had a violent fit of vomiting on the ride over and the younger sang songs and shrieked. Eventually we discerned the little longhaired one was in fact a boy, but that’s neither here nor there.
That evening we had a fun time in a local bar the ranger recommended, where we befriended the bartender. That guy had a troubled past and told us some stories. The following morning Matt awoke with a painful illness which seemed like a 24-hour bug. Perhaps it was from unwashed farmers market strawberries, or Yosemite water. Being incapable of doing much, we checked into a cheap motel in Oxnard where he could rest and I could do some odds and ends like get a haircut.
Feeling rejuvenated the next day we moved on northward, stopping in Santa Barbara to get a surfboard for Matt from Craigslist and a wetsuit for me. We ventured north beyond civilization to where the Pacific Coast Hwy climbs the cliffs along the coast, allowing spectacular views of the bright blue ocean. Camped in a state campground near Big Sur, which is a series of parks in this area where the Big Sur river enters the ocean. We hiked some around here and went to the beach, but we couldn’t stay there long due to the strong chilly winds that shot sand around. Soon after we passed thru Monterey and Carmel, very nice towns on the coast, and up to a less-fancy area called Marina. First we passed thru Cannery Row, of Steinbeck fame, which is now a little touristy. But it was fun reading about the history of the town that built an industry around anchovies (until they decimated the population).
Marina had some state beaches that were enticing enough for us to try surfing there. Unfortunately the beaches were too steep for waves to last long, and it was pretty choppy, but we managed to have fun. We took advantage of the Asians in the area and tried some Korean barbeque. Delicious stuff with lots of unusual sides like kim-chee and various kelp things.
Santa Cruz, between Marina and San Francisco, is a very nice little city with a university. We checked out the nightlife and ended up at a sushi bar near their closing time. They kept giving us free stuff—sushi, calamari, and sake. Next day we moved on and arrived in San Francisco.
We checked out Golden Gate Park, the beach nearby, and ended up parked in the Haight district for a couple nights. In a way it reminded me of Budapest, old and sometimes grittier than I expected. The Mission district, for example, had lots of panhandlers and bums and sketchy shops, but it also is a destination for good food and nightlife. Over a few days we explored parks, like the Presidio just south of the Golden Gate Bridge, where I biked around and enjoyed the cool weather. I found a huge record and CD store which we enjoyed, and we checked out a brewery near the bay bridge. For the Fourth of July we joined the masses and sat out on the waterfront near Fisherman’s Wharf. It was a cold, cloudy night but we enjoyed fireworks and some free live music from an R&B cover band and a Rolling Stones cover band—one that I’m pretty sure played at my fraternity house some years back in college!
In Chinatown we fought for a parking space, found one, then went for lunch, which was good and plentiful. The only downside is we got into a fight with our waitress over a $9 plate of fried rice we didn’t order. “You order fried rice?” No! “But you eat fried rice!” Well, yes, but we ordered the $1 white rice. “Who pay for fried rice? Me?” Well, it’s your fault, and why the hell is fried rice $9? Whatever.
Matt had been sick this whole time and sought out a chiropractor and massage which seemed to help some of the problems which still persisted from the strawberry episode & surfing injuries. All in all we agreed the city is a very interesting place, very distinct from other cities. Certainly a fun place to visit with something to offer everyone. Then we left, back to the south around the bay, to meet in a couple days with Matt’s parents who came to Crater Lake for a vacation.
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