California: Foggy Santa Barbara

We are 240 miles from Los Angeles and we are eager to get there early to spend time with Gene’s cousin and our friend Lily. We fortify ourselves with the complimentary breakfast at the Pelican Cove Inn, serving hot food as well as pastries and toast. Though not fancy, the Pelican Cove Inn takes good care of its customers.

We drive past the Harmony Cellars Winery in San Luis Obispo and remember the lovely wine we had last night.

We plan to have lunch in Santa Barbara today, but it is too early to eat when we approach town. We will just walk down the pier, we think. Getting off the highway is confusing. There is Carrillo, Cabrillo and Castillo streets.

We park in an open lot and start walking toward the pier. The weather is cold, foggy and clammy and we are not getting an impression of the real Santa Barbara. Under the fog is a beautiful seaside town, but it is not making an appearance for us today. At this point, I just want a bathroom and a Starbucks. We settle for a gas station for both needs.

On the highway near Ventura, we see a huge shopping mall. So huge, the mall is more like a little city. We are trying to get back on Highway 101 after the gas stop, but we end up on the service road that parallels the highway. We wind through the mall-city.

We wonder if this Ventura Highway of the 1972 hit song by America. Is it Ventura Boulevard? Ventura Avenue? Ventura Street? Most likely, it’s Ventura Freeway.

We are coming upon LA fast and, anxious to get there, we decide to skip Highway 1 through Malibu. I may regret the shortcut later, but today I am tired and focused on our destination.

Cambria, California: Pelican Cove Inn

After the Hearst Castle tour, Gene and I drive six miles south to Cambria. We are staying on the beach at the Pelican Cove Inn in the middle of the motel row called Moonstone Beach Drive.

The beach motels are only a mile or two from town. So unlike last night, we will have no trouble getting to a restaurant there.

A middle-aged man with white hair checks us in the Pelican Cove. Eager to play concierge, he describes the town’s restaurant options. A thin woman—his wife, perhaps—works the switchboard. She throws in her more ornery two cents from time to time without looking up from her work.

We ask about taking a taxi to town and the Pelican proprietors give us the number of Cambria’s only cab driver. Rob also owns the local towing company. He sometimes picks up taxi customers in his tow truck.

Our room is fussy-cute with a ceiling fan, a fireplace and maroon flowered curtains. A lonely hot tub sits behind a green plastic fence in the corner of the parking lot. The fence helps you not remember you are soaking in the parking lot. We take a fast dip.

Gene and I call the two recommended restaurants and of course, both are closed on Tuesdays.

We go with what might have been our first choice without outside advice, Robin’s, whose menu offers vegetarian dishes.

Taxi Man Rob says he won’t be able to pick us up for an hour and a half.

Forget Robin’s, we will walk to the Moonstone Beach Bar & Grill, two doors down from our motel. Our front-desk friends gave this one a middling review initially. Gene rings the front desk to see if Cambria has an alternative to Rob, and they up their rating of the place.

Looking for a job? Start a competing taxi business in Cambria, California. You only need one taxi, two if you want to have the biggest fleet in town.

Gene and I sit inside next to the window overlooking the water. The night is a little chilly to sit on the porch.

We order a bottle of Harmony Cellars Chardonnay, made ten miles away in San Luis Obispo. The Oysters Rockefeller look oddly cheesy, but Gene says they are delish. Good food doesn’t have to be pretty.

We both order grilled Mahi Mahi. The fish lies under a light tomato cream sauce with shrimp. The food, good and hearty, deserves a better rating from the Pelican Cove Inn. Too cold for a walk on the beach, we return to our room to watch The Biggest Loser.