Friday, October 8, 2010
Carmel to Oxnard, Ca
Up at a leisurly pace, no rush, out to breakfast and then a walk down to the beach at the foot of the Carmel version of High Street, as they say in Merrie Olde England.
Then, load the car, saddle up, and out for an exciting ride down the Pacific Coast Highway. Out of Carmel, onto Highway 1, toward Big Sur and then on south toward Los Angeles. A brief panic and detour as the GPS sent us off toward Highway 101 before we realized what he was up to. We want the beach drive, the scenic route south, not the four-lane commute.
I don't know what to say to revive this memory when I read these notes again. Brilliant California sunshine, no clouds, the ocean and waves and surf stretching far out on our right, steep cliffs and/or rolling hills on our left, a winding road, and a top-down sports car. Take whatever memory or imagination you can conjure up, triple it because of the spectacular weather and general lack of traffic, then add 20% just because its a yellow convertible.
Bypassed San Simeon, high up on the hill to our left, visited last time we were driving this road with our daughters on the 'Mucky Duck' road trip. Popped out of this incredible journey in San Luis Obispo and had lunch, chatted with Leanne who (via a web lookup) gave us the correct address of our next stop, then on the road again, south, to Goleta, just north of Santa Barbara. This is home to Moss Motors, source of all British Car Parts in North America, they even count Octagon Motors in Vancouver among their customers. We got there just in time, just before they closed, and bought a complete seat cover and foam kit, and a new overdrive solenoid. They threw in a car cover too, part of a new promotion. Ok, we'll take it, but .....
Now we have another problem. We were cramped for space anyway but now with bunging in two seat kits and a car cover there was no way at all that it would all go inside the car. So, having anticipated some event of this sort, I had brought a shock-cord set, sort of an Octopus with a center ring and eight cables attached. So the seat foams got to sit on the luggage rack, wrapped in plastic (that flapped in the wind), strapped down to the chrome luggage rack. First time it had ever been used, for anything, but it will hold. Won't it? We'll see.
Then, on the road on Highway 101 (a fourlane freeway at this point), south to a Comfort Inn in southern Santa Barbara. Now, I can't see back and to the right because of the luggage rack contents, so Jan has to look for me when I change lanes. And I'm down to 55 mph, still, because the overdrive part is on hand but not yet installed. We get to south Santa Barbara in the gathering twilight and, surprise, no room at the inn. So south we go to the next one in Ventura, again on fourlane Highway 101. Another full inn, but the Choice Privileges operator reserves us a room in a Comfort Inn in Oxnard. Oxnard?? Whatthe wherethe hell is that? Just down the road a half hour, Highway 101 again, then an exit to a long stretch of traffic jam in a bad part of town, all liquor stores and gas stations and fancy ladies on the steet corners, low riders with vibrating bass and tinted glass, no white faces at all, just Jan and I and our top-down little yellow car. Full darkness now, twilight long past.
We arrive, accomodation is available, but it has a spooky aura. As we check in, everywhere we look there are couples, all age groups but mainly thirty-somethings, walking around hand in hand, holding bibles, smiling. Jan and I are road-weary, our brains fried (the GPS had sent us off in the wrong direction on the way to the hotel and we had to phone for directions), surly, and just generally tired. Seeing these smiling people, with bibles, somehow made us think we had dropped into a Twilight Zone segement, sort of a 'Stepford Wives come to Jesus' episode. But they were benign, a large group of them staying at the hotel for a bible-study weekend. Jan and I opted to go to IHOP for dinner and skip the study.
At the restaurant, we were the only non-Mexicans, strangers in a strange land once again like in Europe. At the table next to us, six young ladies sat having dinner with an assortment of four babies among them. One woman had two kids, two others had one each, and the rest had cell phones. Six separate conversations, at high volume, punctuated by lusty yowls from the fat little babies. And the kids had it figured. Cute as buttons, all four of them, until denied something. Like being allowed to drink from the syrup dispenser, for example. That produced a fit of temper and howling that was absolutely world-class, among the best we had seen in all our travels. In the end the little one got her way, slurping and drinking and licking the drips from the table, while the mother took over the cell conversation from the friend next to her. One of our little travel vignettes to share with you, can you see it in your mind's eye?
Then down for the night, it has been an active day.
Tomorrow, into the traffic vortex of Los Angeles to visit Bob and Celine.
