Our trip to California was compiled entirely through the Internet, which is perhaps a sign of the times. Supposedly some people do still walk into a Travel Agent and choose an entire holiday out of a brochure, but that's not for us - partly because we no longer live where 2 weeks in the Majorcan sun can be bought for £150, but also because we very definitely prefer a holiday where we see as much as we can. So a touring holiday of California (somewhere neither of us has ever been) is perfect for us. We wonder whether Thomas will grow up with a love of touring, or a desperate craving to have a quiet week on a beach somewhere.
Chris had been in California on business the previous week, and had packed in visits to Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle before ending up back in SF a day before Linda and Thomas flew into Oakland Airport.
San Francisco
All the while Chris had been in San Francisco the weather had been cloudy, foggy, just like Blackpool in the winter. Getting a room on the 25th floor of a rather nice Holiday Inn seemed a folly, since Chris had not seen further than 2 blocks since he'd checked in. However returning back from the day's business in Palo Alto through scrubby, almost desert-like, sun drenched hills bisected with ribbons of grey freeway, the sun finally came out
Unshrouded by summer sea fogs, the room gave vent to spectacular views. Chris had struggled to confirm the orientation of the room, since he couldn't see the streets, but now he could see that the view was due east, back down California Street towards the Bay Bridge. However water was visible in three directions, and we could pick out Giants Stadium, across the East Bay to Oakland in the distance, where Linda and Thomas landed.
The journey to meet them was a challenge. San Francisco has invested considerable sums in their BART and MUNI systems, had totally failed to integrate the airports with the transport system - so much so that both airports require a shuttle bus from the nearest station, being the only alternative to a cab It took 75 minutes to travel the 10 miles or so by cable car, foot, BART,and shuttle bus, and after 10 hours of travelling (including violent travel sickness on the bus to JFK which required two changes of clothes) it wasn't fair for Linda and Thomas to make the journey in reverse. So instead we bit the bullet and coughed up a $60 cab fare. Despite the fact that it was 11pm New Jersey time, Thomas was still buzzing and full of travel stories.
By the time we'd got back to the hotel, and Linda had seen the wonderful view by night, and we'd ordered pizza to keep us going, it was 11pm Pacific Time before Thomas finally conked out The next day, Saturday, we set out with the intention of cramming as much in to the day as we could - after all, it would be our only full day in San Francisco. There was, of course, still an absolute need for Thomas to swim in the hotel pool, which he did shortly after breakfast, rendering the bill for pancakes more of a short-term rental deal !. Anyway, cleaned up and ready to go, we bought tickets from the hotel shop (Thomas making a friend of the strange shoplady who gave him a free Milky Way in return for a hug) and then jumped on a cable car.
We climbed to the top of Nob Hill, near the Fairmont Hotel, and changed onto the Powell Line, to take us down to Fisherman's Wharf - well, at least we managed to change cable cars at the third or fourth attempt with Thomas getting angrier and angrier with the drivers of full cable cars who wouldn't stop. The car we eventually climbed on had one of the funniest conductors (they all have to pass a Comedy Club audition as well as a driving test) then took us past Lombard Street ("the 2nd most crooked street in America - after Pennsylvania Avenue !") and past numerous TV-familiar sites of white painted Victorians climbing into blue skies up hills of tarmac. So much of big city America is amazingly familiar from TV and films.
At Fisherman's Wharf we ate fish and chips (preferable to McDonalds, but only just) and visited a WWII submarine before taking a cruise round San Francisco Bay, under the Golden Gate Bridge and round Alcatraz. If a bus tour was not going to be possible with a 5 year-old in tow, then a boat trip was the next best thing. We walked further along the waterfront, and bought a print of San Francisco for our collection before heading to Union Square on a streetcar, for Thomas to round off the day at FAO Schwarz.
Evening-wise we used our cable tickets to visit an almost genuine American Diner, but Tom was singularly unimpressed with everything except the pinball machine. It was a long day, but with more long ones to come, we were in danger of getting less relaxed rather than more.
Santa Cruz
We woke Tom out of his sleep early to try and get as good a jump start on our day as we could, especially as we wanted to go swimming and we thought it best to do this before breakfast to avoid yesterday's...too late ! After breakfast we packed and got ourselves ready for a day or two of less than effortless travelling. First, the airporter van we had booked turned out to be a limo (read big saloon car) that we had to share with another couple and all their luggage (lucky us) - second the driver dropped us off at the terminal, not the car rental where we were picking up our transport - third, we had to cart our stuff down the other end of the terminal building, then onto another shuttle bus.
At time like these, when the whole world seems to be making things difficult for you, we take the view that there is no point in worrying about things you can't change - you'll get your reward sooner or later - in this case sooner. Reward came in the form of an almost brand-new Ford Explorer Eddie Bauer signature model, with leather seats, every electronic gizmo you could imagine, at $266 for the week, with a booster seat for Tom that wasn't charged and another 10% off for our AAA membership. As we pulled out of the airport and onto Freeway 208, we had the distinct feeling that the most important factor of this long touring holiday had just dropped nicely into place. We struck out for the Pacific coast, and after one initial map-reading hiccup, we found our path and our bearings with relative ease - only to run into a massive tailback on Route 92 which was at least 2 miles long, behind some unseen Winnebago also trying to hit the coast via the winding mountain gorge-like roads. We (eventually) got to Half Moon Bay, and turned south on Route 1, the fabled Pacific Coastal Highway - only to find it was inland, too far away from the coast for any views - disappointing.
Needing lunch, we stopped after a few miles at Cameron's Inn, an unashamedly mockney copy of an English pub, which admittedly did have most of the credentials (and Maltesers !). We stocked up with teabags and McVities Digestives for the journey, and headed for Santa Cruz, where we (eventually) found our hotel, checked in and barely had enough time for Thomas to throw up at the poolside (again) before we headed into town and the boardwalk for another late night of mini-golf, arcade games and pizza. We really needed to raise our standards, you know.
Monterey
We decided NOT to let Thomas go swimming this morning - we did need to be on the road, as today was designed to be the day of Monterey Aquarium, the biggest and most spectacular aquarium in North America...and we weren't actually in Monterey yet. So, we set off, again navigating effortlesly onto Route 1 South, and travelling the 40 miles or so to get us to our next port-of-call in next to no time.
We found the Aquarium and parking with ease (Monterey signage in the streets is staggeringly good !) and went on in. Inside there were sea otters, mobiles hanging from the ceiling of full-size killer whales, splash pools, a two-storey kelp forest, - and a reasonably priced cafe with excellent food. All in all, it lived up to its billing. Once we had exhausted the Aquarium, we thought it might be a good idea to do some driving in the car - you never know, maybe Thomas might take a nap ?
So we headed for the very famous (if you've read the California Guide Book) 17 Mile Drive, which takes you past the splendid, competition level golf course and very upmarket houses of Pebble Beach. As well as spotting Arnold Palmer and Tiger Woods at every turn, Pebble Beach is a nature reserve, and there are numerous examples of accessible wildlife, not the least obvious of which was the almost tame squirrel Thomas fed from his hand. Weather-wise, we were dumbfounded at the change between Monterey and Carmel (on the south edge of 17 Mile Drive).
We visited the beach at Carmel, only to be almost knocked over in the rush of people leaving the fog and cloud-covered beach. Yet Monterey, five minutes away, remained cool and clear. Thomas frolicked in the freezing Pacific Ocean - and Linda and Chris added the Pacific to the widening list of sea and oceans of the world in which we have wet our ankles. Once Thomas had completely soaked his clothes and started shivering , we enforced on him that it was leaving time, and we set off. The hotel at Monterey was fairly functional, full of middle-aged hispanics hogging the lift, and not classy enough for us to eat in. So we drove back into Monterey and Cannery Row, to find a decent fish restaurant with a view of the ocean. The first 'decent' meal of the week, and the first alcohol to pass our lips, all for the knock-down, bargain price of $120 ! Mind you Chris' lobster tails and filet mignon was excellent, and Linda thoroughly enjoyed the local Chardonnay.
Universal, Hollywood
Today was supposed to be the uneventful, dull driving day, with nothing much to write about except the 300 miles we put beneath our wheels - wrong ! Today was actually one of the days Chris had most been looking forward to, as we left Monterey and took Route 1 down the full majesty of the Pacific Coast Highway, hugging the cliff faces over blue waters crashing onto the rocks - and for about the first 40 minutes after we left Monterey, it was like that. But as we climbed up the cliff faces, we climbed back into that ever-present cloud, and at points visibility was reduced to maybe 20 yards, which not only rendered the views somewhat irrelevant, but also made driving treacherous and difficult.
There were periods when we emerged (normally descended) into bright daylight, and we could see sapphire blue seas foaming into white spray far below, while we traversed some cantilevered concrete arch impossibly squeezed into the gap between two cliffs - then all too quickly another gruelling climb, more descending mists and only the sense of some awe-inspiring drop on the right of the car. Thomas had a difficult day, with his tummy upsetting him as much as his temperament, which led to frequent mollifying stops. We drove on through Big Sur, vaguely impressed by the... well, outdoorsy-ness of it, but our trip was reduced in effectiveness by the weather. One thing that did resonate with us again is the ability in California to easily see animals in the wild that you would only normally see in a zoo, and while we didn't stop, we saw seals at play on a sandy beach, and flocks of pelicans in flight, in precise military formation.
Once the road dropped down and levelled, and the scenery fell away behind us, the road also improved, and thanks to our good planning and early start, we reached San Luis Obispa before 1pm, to break our journey, stretch our legs and take lunch before the major second leg. The town was impossibly pretty with an incredible array of elegant, friendly, interesting shops and bars. It is an absolute undiscovered gem that would be thronging with tourists in any other part of the world. Here, it's got a Spanish name, it's at least an hour from any other major city, so it's a mystery why the shops are there at all, not so much why it was so quiet and peaceful. We had lunch in a western-type bar, Thomas continuing in his attempt on the Guinness Book of Records feat for the most breaded chicken products consumed on one week, and we set off again shortly before 3pm to try and finish the trip before midnight.
Remarkably, from San Luis Obispa into greater Los Angeles is almost all freeway, almost completely drivable at 70mph and very easy to navigate. We hit some traffic at Santa Barbara which also looked impossibly beautiful in a, well, Californian way - sun, sand, palm trees etc. - and then we slowed down on the edge of LA. This gave us time to pinch ourselves some more, for Linda to mess up photos of landmark roadsigns, and for us to try and navigate our way to the small street containing our hotel form a variety of maps, the best of which covered one side of greater Los Angeles to the other in four inches, and none of which professed to show the street with our hotel on. So we continued on Route 101, came off the ramp when our road was signposted, turned left at the end of the ramp and first right into the hotel car park !
The hotel was apparently owned by a star of movies and TV called Beverley Garland, and had a wonderful air of Californian, seventies, slightly 'seen-better-days' type - the signs were done in an old-fashioned typeface, like a seventies pop album, and there was a feeling that you were always likely to see someone you half-recognised. In fact we saw at least two people, one of whom Chris described as "that guy that sometimes used to be in Disney films".
Next day, we decided to take the car to Universal Studios - the high point of the week - and treat ourselves to 'preferred parking' which actually worked out very well, and gave us a 50 yard walk to the main gates. We already had tickets, so we were inside before 9am. But once inside, the main park didn't open until the stroke of 9am, even though we were in the main throng of 50 or so people who rushed to make the most of the newly opened park - except it wasn't - open, that is. The gates may have been, but most rides, including the ones we were seeking, didn't open until 10am. We took the opportunity to do 'Back to the Future' twice (well, Thomas and Chris did - Linda concentrated on retaining her breakfast while the boys had their second go) - then we had a big wait to get down to the lower lot and, of course, 'Jurassic Park - The Ride'. Thomas shows absolutely no fear in these situations, which was very useful. The ride started calmly as a river cruise through Jurassic Park, beautifully realised with animatronic Brachiosaurus and Stegosaurus. BUT...something goes wrong, the boat is diverted through the wrecked Velociraptor compound and through the complex, with raptors and T.Rex poking out of broken pipes The climax is to traverse a waterfall through which a giant T.Rex pops out, just as the boat tips over an almost vertical 80 foot drop. It was SO frightening that Thomas had to do it three times in a row, and the second two trips, thanks to the sparse early crowds, were done in the front seat of the boat. We were, of course, totally soaked.
Other favourite attractions were the E.T. Adventure, Backdraft, and the Movie Special Effects (where Thomas dubbed the sound of Shrek's mud shower to a clip of film). Linda loved the backlot tour which included many famous sets like the Psycho House, Wholand from the Grinch film, the Town Square from Back to the Future, and multiple famous reserved parking spaces. We also saw the Waterworld show, and Thomas got soaked again in the Nickelodeon Blast Zone.
We felt really happy that we had got our money's worth from Universal , but felt a little dissatisfied that we hadn't yet seen much of Hollywood itself (except for the glorious panoramic views from the park, which is actually built halfway up the big hill with the Hollywood sign). So...we decided to cruise around a few streets before we headed south. We dropped down onto Sunset Boulevard, drove along there, then cut back and drove back along Hollywood Boulevard. We saw Grauman's Cinema, Mann's Chinese Theatre, and a few other places which, according to the guidebook, were famous landmarks. But we also saw rather a lot of rundown seedy shops, including a whole colony of shops where showgirls buy their lingerie, wigs and exotic shoes - it gave the impression that there is a very thin line between the glamour of the movies and the less attractive other world beneath the surface. In fact, as we had seen earlier in the day, Hollywood is the master at creating artificial worlds, and apparently this carries over into its real-life setting.
The journey down Route 405 to Carlsbad was, indeed, uneventful, and rather surprisingly we managed to drive at 75mph for 2 hours without being the fastest car on the road - until we reached the hotel described as 'Danish-themed' - did this mean lots of Scandinavian-looking blonde wood Ikea furniture ? No - apparently in California, Danish-themed means 'sporting a huge windmill over the restaurant' !!
Legoland, Carlsbad
After so much intense driving and travelling, and trying to keep to our quite demanding schedule, we decided not to hurry anywhere this morning, especially as we intended to stay at Legoland till after 8pm to see the fireworks. So we rose late, went to the pool before breakfast in the hope of stopping Thomas throwing up, then went through for breakfast - walking through what can only be described as a eucalyptus grove on the way back from the pool, we added to our 'creatures in the wild' inventory by spotting a humming bird flitting from tree to tree. Somehow, despite the manager writing the times on our check-in sheet the previous night, despite the information in the room giving accurate restaurant times, despite the vouchers we were given having the correct times printed on them, the hotel had somehow managed to conspire to make us believe that breakfast ended at 11.30, so we arrived 5 minutes after breakfast ended. After an ugly scene (well, Chris was the only one looking really ugly) the manager accommodated us quite well, and once we realised our mistake, we went from righteous indignation to acute embarrassment - in private of course.
We arrived at Legoland at lunchtime, and were pleasantly surprised by the lack of crowds and the pleasantness of the day. Linda used the word 'civilised' a lot to describe the atmosphere, and that's really how it was. A pleasant, unhurried, exciting, fulfilling experience. Thomas got to ride his favourite rides as many times as he wanted, Chris took about 800 pictures of Miniland, which on balance was better than the one in Windsor, and we stayed until 8.40pm for a red, white and blue firework display. Even then there was still shopping to be done, including red, white and blue doughnuts for the journey, which was just as well as it took nearly an hour to get out of the car park and on our way to San Diego.
The journey was pretty brief and harmless - apart from getting caught up in the uni-directional San Diego streets, which was not to be the last time - and the interesting experience of checking in and being given the key to a room that was already occupied
San Diego
The next day was to be our last full day, and we fully intended to recharge our batteries after our hereto hectic schedule. We woke late, swam, breakfasted, did laundry, organised bags, and then headed out for the beach just before midday. We thought we'd try and see a bit of the town first, and then headed down Harbour Drive towards the Coronado Toll Bridge. We ended up seeing a lot more of San Diego than we really wanted to, and places that tourists don't normally see, as we drove through a desperately poor hispanic neighbourhood with a strange idea of what people might buy in a yard sale, and with those damned one-way streets thwarting our every effort to get back onto the freeway.
Eventually we escaped the roadsigns and sneaked onto the crowded Coronado Island - more traffic, overflowing car parks, so we drifted down the coast road, past the Naval Base, and ended up on a fairly run-of-the-mill public beach - which is to say it was fairly busy, had a capacious car park, changing and showering facilities, and storming Pacific breakers crashing just far enough out to make the waters safe. Thomas befriended a boy called Jared, who lent him a boogie board and they had a great afternoon playing together. The only cost was the painful scratches Thomas gained on his tummy - now we know why most surfers wear wet suits.
We left the beach after 5.30, not realising till later how strong the sun had been (an elementary mistake for which Chris paid, not for the first time) and we headed back to get ready for dinner. We really wanted to try and eat earlier, as Thomas' mood definitely declines as he gets tired, and he had had some very late nights this week. We tried to find a restaurant in Little Italy, but apart from a 40 minute wait at one, and a 30-strong out-of-the-door line at another (which we reckon must have been pretty damned good) we were out of luck. So we headed back into the centre of town and the fabled Gaslamp Quarter. This is described so glowingly in the tourist guides, but is really only a contrived tourist area of bars, restaurants and expensive parking lots. We found a halfway decent Italian, but the food was a little disappointing. Thomas was flagging, and the evening turned out to be less memorable than we hoped. We were back in the hotel at a reasonable hour for Thomas to catch up on some sleep - except we then let him stay up and watch Beetle juice till after 11 o'clock !! We are such BAD parents !
Next day, despite the fact that (of course) we have to swim, and we know we can stay in the room till 2pm, we are organised for our trip home, packed and out of the room at a decent enough hour for us to have breakfast at a diner called Hob Nob Hill - much recommended and with a certain character, created not least by the waiting staff made up exclusively of woman of a certain age with wiry hair and thick ankles. However the food was a little disappointing - dry muffins, and smallish portions (very un-american !) - so small in fact that Thomas ordered himself a second breakfast - and we let him.
After that, we cruised around San Diego a little longer to get postcards and soak up a bit more atmosphere before heading out. Despite its high recommendations, its excellent climate, and its place as the 7th largest city in the U.S., we found San Diego to be...well, quite non-descript and very ordinary. Of course, there's always the view that you can't get to know somewhere in a day and a bit - which we accept - but what we saw of it did not comment it as a place to come back to. It compared to Brighton - a town/city in its own right,with industry, commerce, etc which just happens to be next to the sea and so makes the most of it. And anyway, if Americans can take 10 day tours of Europe and think they've seen it all, we're happy with our summation of San Diego in a day and a bit.
We resisted the obvious temptation of doing San Diego Zoo and the accompanying Balboa Park, but instead headed out of the city towards the San Diego Wildlife Park, which had one advantage of being on the way to the airport, and comes highly recommended by one of Chris' work colleagues. The park did not get off to a good start, as we queued in the hot sun for a shuttle from the car park, queued for entry tickets, queued to get through the gates, then discovered the one-hour long queue for the monorail, which is pretty much the number one attraction.
After another ugly and needless rant, we set off to make the best of it, taking in an elephant show in a blistering auditorium, and feeding the ducks. Well, it seemed that Thomas' intention was to ensure that every aquatic bird in the entire park got at least some of his bird feed. We finally bit the bullet, got on the queue for the monorail, and exactly one hour later we climbed aboard, Chris' cynicism growing by the minute as the Tour Guide announced that his time at the park had been 'the best two months of my life'.
However cynicism was swept away as the train inched around the mile long track which surrounded a huge, incredibly natural looking compound that contained all manner of exotic African and Asian animals (thought not enough lions and tigers to satisfy Thomas) and Chris could bear (or at least tune-out) the irritating cliches and platitudes of our 14 year-old guide - even picking up on some of the interesting information half-hidden in the cliches. We finished the day in the park by looking at more ducks, snakes, spiders, feeding lorrikeets which climbed onto your hands, and with another disappointing meal, before we left to head off to the airport.
One panic-inducing journey later (delayed by driving the wrong way up highway 78 three times, and then hitting a freeway-wide jam for a Mexican border inspection) we reached Ontario Airport, handed back Daddy's beloved Ford Explorer and boarded our overnight flight back to JFK. Thomas bravely took up the challenge of watching Crocodile Hunter on the in-flight satellite TV, but before long he had succumbed to sleep - we all closed our eyes and ended our California vacation somewhere high over the Nevada desert.
In some ways, a road trip along the Southern Californian highways is a bit of a dream trip - but it usually involves lots of sun, a Ford Mustang convertible and a leisurely drive along picturesque coastal roads. Our road trip was a little different, in that it was mostly about driving from point to point, and the only times when we hoped to get something out of the drive itself were spoilt by the weather. And the driving was such a big part of the holiday that it almost overshadowed everything else - and it would have done, if the driving had not taken us from one high point to another.
From San Francisco to Monterey Aquarium to Universal Hollywood to Legoland to San Diego - a fantastic, exhilirating, exhausting, all-consuming itinerary of high points of colour, but perhaps missing some of the subtle shades and nuances of the quieter moments. Sometimes you have to have the quieter moments to appreciate the high points even more. But then again, with a 5 year old and only 8 days...
So what where the memorable moments ? So, what did we take away from California, apart from loads of T-shirts ?
- San Francisco is a very beautiful city, just like on TV and in the movies, but is mainly for grown-ups.
- Every major city in California has at least one English pub - Cameroon's Inn, the Coach and Horses in Hollywood, the Elephant and Castle in the Holiday Inn in San Diego, which also had the Britannia Arms, the small English pub in the middle of San Luis Obispa, the English microbrewery at the Cannery in Monterey....
- Hollywood is actually not very nice at all, and the glamourous Tinseltown we know so much about is half-American Themepark and half-Soho sleazepark.
- Californians may have a reputation as being laid back, but they're really not much different to other Americans - except for their inability to organise a kegger in a fake English pub.
- Oakland Airport is as much of a dump as Ontario Airport was stylish and welcoming - a definite case of swings and roundabouts - but it does suggest that you check before flying through a municipal airport.
- San Francisco has worse town planners than Milton Keynes, after spending probably billions on a public transport system which doesn't connect with any of the airports !
- Chris has seen more baseball parks (at least from the outside) than Andy has.
- If we didn't know before, Thomas is a real water baby, and has progressed from last summer without going near a pool - by the end of this summer he will be swimming effortlessly - so long as he can keep his breakfast down.
- In California, "Danish-themed" means Windmills (Holland), Eucalyptus Trees (Australia), Hummingbirds (Africa), Swiss Chalets, and TGI Fridays (very, very, very American).
- The next car we buy will be a 2004 White Ford Explorer Eddie Bauer Edition with electric leather seats.
- Linda remains unparalleled in her experience and ability in packing three suitcase-worth of clothes into two holdalls.
- According to Andy Keyte, Monterey Aquarium still ranks highly on Suzanne's list of "best fish museums in the world" - and now we know why !
Instead, the big event of September was Thomas' first day at school. Looking far more mature than we know him to be, he waited patiently for the school bus to take him the 200 yards to Hopewell Elementary School. He even let Linda take numerous pictures of him, (almost) all of them with a saintly smile. Here at the right, Mrs Smith organises operations in typical fashion.
For Halloween night itself, we hit the streets with Artemis and Paris Basile, with Thomas dressed as Harry Potter. We have a little way to go with Tom's manners - "I don't like those sweets !"
For Thanksgiving itself, we decided to add to our American experiences by going to New York for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Using the points we had accumulated during our California trip, we booked a night at the Holiday Inn on 57th and 10th, just two blocks from the Parade route. Winter weather had already swept in, and the temperatures were around zero for most of the preceeding day. Wind whipping round the New York high-risers made it seem even colder. We had a terrific meal the night before at Trattoria Dell'Arte, then set out early to find a place on the route.
The parade starts at 9am, but by 8 o'clock the pavements are full, and we were very lucky to find a spot opposite Central Park, sheltered by apartments to our back and the curbside crowds in front.
With Thomas on Chris' shoulders we were able to get a great view of the whole parade, and the three hours of standing seemed only like, well, three hours. We stoked up with hot chocolate and lunch in a New York diner before heading home.
