San Juan Bautista

Who knew our favorite spot in sunny Central Coastal California would be the San Juan Bautista 200-year old Catholic Spanish Mission just three miles down the road from our RV Park ?  We expected a tumble-down small adobe building.  It was not.  It was a lovingly cared-for active Catholic church—it just happens to be very, very old.   Mass is held on Saturday and Sunday in English, Spanish, and Latin.  The walk through the Mission including the church, gardens, and living quarters is like walking back in time to 1797.  The rough hewn dining table in the Mission living quarters was set with old dinnerware painted in the brilliant yellows, oranges, and greens of Spain.  The chairs, large and intricately carved, were positioned around the table.  In fact, all the furniture was a work of art including cabinets, bookcases, chests.   In the background playing softly was a soothing Gregorian chant.  Hundreds of candles flickered in the church lit by loyal parishioners.   The interior rooms were amazingly cool behind the thick adobe walls.

The little town of San Juan Bautista is practically traffic-free (almost freakishly so for California).  Old two-story buildings with peek-a-boo courtyards line up down three blocks of “The Alameda”.  We ate at Jardines de San Juan for lunch out in their pretty courtyard.  The courtyard includes interesting cacti, olive trees, and chickens! Cute little chickens and roosters roamed around picking up bugs—cackling and crowing.   You do not see that everyday.

We found out today that we are on the San Andreas fault.  Literally on the San Andreas fault.  I guess if our little RV house can withstand traveling down the road, it should hold up during an earthquake.  Keep your finger crossed.

Pebble Beach 17-Mile Drive

Between Pacific Grove and Carmel, California is the only toll road on the west coast.  For $10 we saw some of the most expensive ocean property and well-known golf courses in the country, if not the world.  Pebble Beach Golf Course and the other four golf courses along the 17-mile drive are just as beautiful in “real life” as they are on television.  The Pebble Beach Course maintenance crew must get down on their hands and knees and individually clip each blade of grass; it was that perfect.   Perfection, yes, but  we were not willing to part with $495 for Mike to play a round of golf.  (Note:  I borrowed this picture from the Pebble Beach website.  For some reason, the golfers dislike photographers on the course, but we did drive by this hole.)

The homes along the beach scream wealth.  But, we both agreed it was not the big McMansions that caught our attention; it was the smaller, subtle homes that were the most beautiful—from the low-slung modern blending naturally within the rocks to the quaint English cottage complete with a colorful rose garden and white picket fence. 

Along the road paralleling the ocean are public beaches with rugged rock outcroppings creating an angry sea even on a calm day.   With one exception.  There was one sandy surfing beach, and it was filled with black wet suit surfers.     Swimming near them, unafraid, were seals, lots of them.  The seals and surfers look so much alike; it is easy to understand why sharks often snatch a surfer mistaking them for a juicy seal snack.

Yes, we saw the Pebble Beach logo along the drive, The Lone Cypress.  But, it was not so lonely.  There were scads of tourists snapping pictures on the shore.  Based on the crowds we saw at this stopping point and several others, the 17-mile drive would be grid-locked, if it were not for the $10 toll.

PCH – Pacific Coast Highway

The locals refer to Highway 1 as PCH—just a bit of trivia for your future reference.  The stretch of PCH known as Big Sur is heart stopping.  The road is a winding ribbon over a thousand feet above the surf in some places.  For the most part, the cliffs and hills are dry grass; but occasionally you pass through cypress and, surprisingly, a few redwoods.  Scary and beautiful at the same time.  The cliffs and large rocks in the ocean create enormous crashing waves.
 
The only downside to the stunning scenery was the heat wave hitting California the last two days.  When we stopped down near the surf, the temperature was a refreshing 70 degrees; but as you drive up the cliffs, the heat was a blasting 100 degrees.

When we reached the Nepenthe restaurant, located 800 feet, straight up from the sea, it was 100 degrees.  But we could not resist the view outside, so we sat in the shade to see the spectacular coast as we ate.  You sit on one side of a long table because the other side drops to the Keva Cafe (picture to the right).   I put my purse on my lap rather than next to my chair for obvious reasons.

The Nepenthe has delicious food, appreciated chardonnay and unbelievable views.  At one time Orson Wells and Rita Hayworth owned the restaurant—another piece of trivia.  It would have been amazing to watch the sunset from the deck, but driving home in the dark on that windy road is not something to we wanted to experience.

Organizing: Clothing

We have purged and downsized our clothing three times since we have been on the road.  The first two purges were cleaning out stuff we were not wearing, and today was due to clothing no longer fitting—it was too big!  Yea!  Our new retirement lifestyle allows us to cook fresh vegetables, eat fresh fruit (how did I eat canned pineapple?), and exercise everyday.  It feels great to finally lose weight and do it in a way that can be easily maintained.  Along with the purging is the realization that fewer items are needed to have a nice wardrobe.  And you need to buy quality for it to last (you tend wear the same item more frequently).  We find purchasing from outdoor clothing retailers like REI, Orvis, and Sports Authority results in some more rugged wear.

Not speaking for Mike (As long as it fits, he is happy; but I at least make sure his shirt works with the pants…), I am realizing my previous wardrobe was dated.  I am not a fashionista, but I do like dressing nicely.  In my quest for age-appropriate, updated clothing, I stumbled across a website  http://www.polyvore.com/ that is a neat tool for planning clothing purchases and it is creative way (a collage/scrapbook tool) of thinking of more than one way to wear an article of clothing.  The picture to the left shows clothing I own (the shorts were a recent purchase) and the collage I created for our trip to the beach later this week.   I will let you explore the website to understand how this works, but it is pretty neat the way you can import from retailers’ websites.

I recognize this approach is not for everyone, but I find it is a fun little hobby.  Maybe as I create more collages, I can post another blog with them and the ways I plan to maximize my wardrobe on the road.

Santa Cruz

Growing up in Santa Cruz would be a dream come true for some lucky kid.  Today, we witnessed the third-grade class field trip—aboard a 50-foot catamaran to cruise Monterey Bay.  They were all waving madly to everyone on the wharf and having a great time.   I remember my third-grade field trip; it was a visit to the irrigation ditch running through town to capture frogs and crickets.  

Large numbers of teenagers were playing volleyball on the beach.  I am guessing this was their high school physical education class.  Man, maybe I would have loved P.E. if I had played volleyball in my bikini on the beach.   My high school P.E. involved cowering in the corner during the war ball game in the gym.  Maybe Mike would have shown up for P.E. if he played on the beach with bikini-clad hotties….

Seriously, Santa Cruz is beautiful.  And the Santa Cruz Boardwalk is very cool with the wooden rollercoaster, the Ferris Wheel over the water, arcades—all painted in brilliant colors and the beach literally steps away.  The Coney Island of the West.  Walking around the rides and arcade, we found we were behind a family from New Jersey.  They were almost a clone of the Soprano family.  I am not making this up.  In his New Jersey accent, the son was discussing the shortcomings of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk compared to Coney Island.  “Lemme-tell-yous this is no Coney Island Pawk.”  Hilarious. 

Mike was ready by noon for a cold beer in a frosty glass.  He was very insistent on the frosty glass.  We found a great bar on the wharf with a perfect view of the ocean and the fishing boats in the bay.
 
Interestingly enough, we have found that we get the best local advice from hairstylists, golf partners, and…bartenders.  Based on the advice of our bartender today, we ate at the Crow’s Nest next to the marina.  The restaurant is positioned on the channel for boats incoming and outgoing.  Lots of boats going out today—the weather was spectacular for sailing.

Just Enjoying Life

My mom called this morning.   She reads the blog everyday. 

“What is wrong?” she asked.
 
“Nothing is wrong.” I replied.  “Why?  Everything is great.”

“You have not blogged since Sunday.  Are you sick?” She insisted.

Really, nothing is wrong.  We have just been hanging out and I did not think anyone cared to know that Mike was washing and waxing the 5’er (this takes several days and the RV Parks allowing you to wash your rig are limited—our current park does) and I have been cleaning the cupboards.   Apparently, I was wrong—somebody cares.  I will be more diligent in my daily blogging.

If you did not notice, there are at least four safety violations in the picture of Mike buffing the RV.  What happened to his work safety ethic?  A rebel without a cause.

We did go out to eat at a cute Mexican restaurant in the little town of San Juan Bautista a couple miles down the road from us.  We plan to go back to the town and see the old Spanish Mission (built in 1797) and hit a couple more restaurants there.  I will take my camera this time.

I have been reading a lot since I found a new series of books to enjoy.  Charlaine Harris, author of the Sookie Stackhouse southern vampire books and HBO True Blood television series, writes another set with a couple more interesting central characters. When I start reading, it is hard to stop much less focus on anything else.

Maybe tomorrow we will head to Santa Cruz to enjoy the beach and the boardwalk.  It is like summer here and we like it!

All That Jazz

We were a-jammin’ and a-jivin’ at the 53rd Monterey Jazz Festival yesterday located at the Monterey fairgrounds.  The quality of the musicians was over the top.  This was a new “live” experience for us and we enjoyed every minute.  We listened to three different performers at the Garden Stage.  There were other “Grounds” stages, but this was our favorite.   The Garden Stage is outdoors with bleacher seats and grassy areas.  We got there when the fairgrounds opened and staked out a spot with our blanket under a large shady tree near the stage.

The most well-known musicians (Harry Connick, Jr., Chick Corea, Dianne Reeves—just to name a few) play in “The Arena” in the evening.  The Arena seats are much coveted even to the extent they are sought after during divorce proceedings.  Of course, we were not able to get tickets to “The Arena”.  Just think of it, in the first year of the festival in 1957, Billie Holiday sang on that stage.  That would have been something to see.  Between the big name musicians and celebrities flying into the small airport located next to the fairgrounds, I lost count at twenty private jets—not small planes—large private jets.

The Johnny Nocturne Band was our favorite.  They have been around a long time, and are all phenomenal.  The guitar player was out of this world.

Never listened to gospel soul before, but Naomi Shelton and the Gospel Queens had the crowd standing and clapping and swaying to the music.  People get into a frenzy over this stuff; and admittedly, it was fun to listen to and watch.  Old Naomi did not stop for over an hour and a half.  We still cannot believe that big voice came out of that little woman.  I want some of her stamina.

Lastly, Trombone Shorty played.  What a performer!  He plays the trombone like the devil and the trumpet and the drums and sings.  The crowd went wild!  The only downside to this was we unfortunately parked our blanket in front of the speakers and his music and his band were LOUD!  We tried stuffing our ears with bits of napkin which helped some, but we finally had to pick up and move way in the back. 

The first two acts were crowded, but when young Trombone Shorty came on stage the place was packed—people sat down in the aisles, they were up on limbs in all the trees, and they squeezed into every bit of space they could.  Add to this, they all wanted to wiggle their booty (Side note:  Some men should not dance to jazz.)  It was crazy and fun to watch!  I swear Yoko Ono was dancing just like Mick Jagger next to us—looked just like her and she was a little wacko, too.

Oh, and the food was to die for.  New favorite meat is alligator.  We think it tastes like a sweet, chewy pork.  This came from a New Orleans food vendor, and they cooked the meat with a spicy deep fry served on a stick .  Groan..so good.  The whole time we were listening to the music you can smell all this delicious food—Cajun, Italian, Thai, BBQ—it was all there.  Even the food courts (note:  more than one) had small jazz bands playing.

Wow, can you spell “over-stimulated”?  We need a few days to rest.