Central California

Santa Cruz is a small town with an interesting history. Originally founded by Spanish missionaries trying to convert  Native-Americans in 1791, its one of the oldest settlements on the west coast. Lacking a deep enough harbour for big ships, it never exploded like San Francisco. Its population of 60,000 had to be creative to maintain itself. First, by becoming one of the first places to embrace the new-fangled 19th century concept of inexpensive beach destinations, with a boardwalk and permanent carnival rides. More recently, as a hub of surf and skate culture, laying claim to Surf City USA, as well as a hip, liberal enclave of progressive living. 

It was the surf that excited Freya and I - we've been surfing in Portugal several times in the last year, and couldn't wait to 'hang ten' on the famed California swell. 

Therefore, we were slightly surprised to find a cold, grey beach without a single surfer! We hadn't read far enough down the page. But in the middle of winter, when much of Southern California's waves have dimmed, that's when Santa Cruz breaks. That's when the surfers head north. Whoops!

We did find a delightful town and lively boardwalk to enjoy. 

Often, these fun parks descend over time into grubby, tasteless pageants of garish hucksters which parents endure as the children are oblivious. Not so in Santa Cruz. Their board walk is clean with a fresh charm, a warm affable vibe, an uber-cool retro design flair, and some out-of-this-world tasty corn dogs. 

In possibly related news, I had to explain to Freya that the smell she was so often scenting was that of marijuana, and very few people seemed to be drinking alcohol. 

It made for a great chilled evening. 

We made a plan to make sure each day was filled with something physical, something cultural, and a bit of driving. Getting from Santa Cruz to San Diego is a LOT of driving!

So the next day we went kayaking in the local river delta with seals and sea otters.  In my youth, these animals were threatened - there was a campaign to save them and their habitat.  Sea otter pelts, in specific, are thick and perfect for clothing. When that campaign began in the 70s, natural conservation was a relatively new idea. It worked. Now these beautiful animals are thriving. 

We then visited Monterey and Carmel, with a little visit to the revived Cannery Row. Unlike much of America, with its strip malls and acres of suburbia, so much of Coastal California feels unique. One doesn't confuse them - each place feels very different. And not just the famous places - smaller towns such as Cambria and Moor Bay, too. Each has its own soul. I'm sure a big reason is the lack of big corporate - I haven't seen a single Friday's, Chili's, Applebee's or Outback. I am told these towns often have a rule which forbids these companies in favour of local ownership... with the curious exception of Starbucks (thank God). 

The result is that warm, welcoming feeling of a neighbourhood. 

We then headed back to Highway 1 and it's speactacular drive south to Big Sur and the redwoods. This road is a feat of engineering - cut into the mountainside, driving it is one of life's true pleasures.

 

Unfortunately, nature itself sometimes has something to say about feats of engineering. This spring a series of landslides left much of it undrivable!

So we enjoyed the one hike in all of Big Sur that hasn't been closed, and turned around. 

Driving back was another frigid, wind-swept occasion. The microclimate created by the cold sea, the coastal mountains, and the oven of the basin on the other side, makes for unpredictable and often rough weather.  On this day, the winds were biting and strong. 

This is when we noticed a pair of cyclists fighting the elements. It looked a painful fight. When they stopped near the bridge pictured above, they looked spent. Freya and I realised we were perhaps the only sort of vehicle (a rented van with the chairs removed for makeshift bedding) that could help them. Freya suggested we offer them a ride, and through barely concealed tears they accepted. So we had a fun ride and chat with some new friends, Don and Randi. 

Before long, we had a 120 mile drive around the landslides, in order to find our most interesting quarry of the entire trip. The elephant seal. 

These massive beasts (the males often weigh 5000 lbs) have a rockery which they permanently inhabit. As far as we can tell, all they do is sit around all day, very occasionally fight each other, and far more often exude incredibly deep, resonating burps or farts - we couldn't tell which. 

This was it. How these massive blubbery beasts manage to feed themselves is utterly mind-boggling. They're too slow to feed on fish, so they have to dive nearly 1000 feet deep, holding their breath for an hour, to feed on relatively large and slow rays, eels, sharks and other deep sea-goers. 

Presumably, they are able to sneak up on their prey because deep sea-goers don't  have noses, and can't be warned off by their odor. Freya and I could. 

So we headed to Santa Barbara for some more kayaking, in the caves under Santa Cruz Island. What fun. Sea kayaking can be quite the upper body work out, and this day was certainly that (although we only took photos in the calm places). 

Yesterday evening we crossed into Malibu, and our first taste of Southern California. Huge beaches filled with surfers and volleyball players, and lots of hot, beaming sun. 

We've been enamoured by the beauty and personality of Central California. 

Frankly, we're also longing to feel sun-kissed. This part of the state is frn grey in summer. Today starts the next stage of the adventure.