A Triumphant Return to the Village

 A Few Last Adventures in California

Time was growing short until Michael and I would be able to return to Ajijic.  Alex had a couple more tests he had to fulfill before they would put him on the transplant list even though he didn't need one, and they didn't know what caused it, and they didn't know if he'd need one in the future, but why not be prudent, yes?  They also pointed out that if he ever DID need one and we didn't complete the hurdles he would have to start from square one which we wouldn't wish on our worst enemy.  So, two more tests and he and Chico Rico will be headed South.

Ventura Highway in the Sunshine... Where the Days are Longer....

With Alex feeling perkier and Chico feeling more cooped up and Justin just wishing he could have some peace in the condo, we ventured further north to witness the surf culture of Ventura. It was splendid watching young, lithe things cavorting in frigid water with Great White Sharks and the occasional seal.  There's not much to tell since it is not a very substantive culture but we had a tasty meal, rapaciously inhaled salt air and went home happy.

Alex & Chico walked along the beach. Chico is beginning to lose his fear of the water (at least he will now let his feet get wet in the surf).

This balancing rock caught my eye...

as well as the many ground squirrels cavorting among the rocks on the beach.

I labelled this "Moby Rock" for the resemblance to a sperm whale's head.

The ground squirrels were definitely not malnourished.

This lucky surfer managed to get a wave all to himself.

Someone erected this cairn along the beach.

You can now see why the surfer above was lucky to get a wave to himself.

The Pits (La Brea Tar Pits that is)

We had never been to the La Brea Tar Pits and Museum.  I must say I had never really been that into tar but Michael was intrigued so, before we left town, we felt compelled to visit.  At first it was rather boring in that you merely stared at fenced off areas that looked like someone had thrown wet asphalt on the ground although it did smell worse than asphalt.  But it got very interesting when we reached the large "lake" (not that large, nor a lake, but substantial).  There the tar was really working.  Methane bubbles cropped up randomly around the pond and occasionally it would erupt and throw tar et al into the air. So, these ice age animals (all large and scary) would wander into the tar pits for whatever reason, get stuck and then the predators (more scary) would leap upon them as they were mired and would, in turn, become mired etc. etc.  This resulted in literally millions of bones being preserved in the tar pits.  The guy who owned the tar pits (they originally were used to extract oil) willed them to the city and the rest is history.  The museum has recreated these adorable creatures that Michael's photos will display.  My personal favorite was the dire wolf.  That was formidable.  So, photos again.

A recreation of a Colombian Mammoth in the museum.

A dire wolf fossil with the recreation of the dire wolf below.

                      So, So sinister, si?

Methane bubbling up from the tar lake.

A recreation of a mastodon stuck in the tar lake. The fencing to keep people from wandering into the lake prevented a totally clear shot.

A mastodon fossil gives you an idea of the size of these creatures.

A recreation of a saber tooth tiger attacking a giant sloth.

A pair of wooly mammoth fossils.

Au Revoir to a Favorite Spot

Chico Rico adores the Promenade along the Ocean in Santa Monica -- very near the spot where Whitey Bulger called home while on the lam.  So, we took him for a final trot to torture the ground squirrels and enjoy the ocean vista.  Thought we'd throw in a photo of this really incredible sculpture.

On one of our last visits to the Santa Monica Palisades we spotted this gnarly tree with beautiful flowers...

with roots (or are they branches) spreading out all around the base.

We also saw this intriguing wooden sculpture.

Huh?  Culver City is Cool?  Really?

Yep.  Now it's cool.  Things move fast in SoCal so you have to stay with the program.  Michael and I went for a lunch at our favorite French place and noticed some really excellent buildings that had gone unnoticed on our prior trips.  Here they are for your viewing pleasure.

We never did find out exactly what this building was, nor could I find out through Google.  It was not a deli.  A prize to the first person to identify it.

An iconic street clock that still keeps time!

The flatiron-shaped Culver Hotel opened in 1924 and housed the offices and vault of the city's founder, Harry Hazel Culver.

A Long and (Very) Winding Road.....

So, at long last we loaded up the old Subaru and girded ourselves for the drive back to Ajijic.  All we lacked was grandma roped in her rocking chair on the roof and we'd have been the Clampitts.   In deference to our age, and all we'd been through, we decided to take four days rather than three for the journey.  Day One entailed a very lengthy drive to Tucson where it was a refreshing 120 degrees. When you opened the car door it was like being hit with a sledge hammer.  One need only to drive from California to Arizona to see the glaring polarization which is our nation today.  California: everyone wearing a mask at all times in all places.  Arizona:  No one wearing a mask anywhere including the guy who was making our food at the restaurant.  It was a little unsettling.  We had a great time though having dinner with Charlie and his partner Jorge.  We've known Charlie virtually since he was born and are friends with his parents from back in Boston.  He is in Tucson now and is a wildfire fire fighter which is somewhat redundant but you know what I mean.  A very great guy as is Jorge.

Next day was cross the border time. This is always a little fraught with uncertainty.  If you arrive with your car packed to the gills with gringo toys such as computers, snazzy coffee makers etc. there exists the chance that the border agents in Mexico will insist you remove everything so that they can "inspect" it, demand receipts (which you will not have) and generally be a pain in the butt.  Or not.  Luckily, on this foray it was not.  We were pulled over but I gave him our tail of woe in my hideous Spanish and finally I believe listening to me was so painful that he just shooed me back in the car and waved us on.

We never paid a toll in Sonora (the state butting up to Arizona).  Why?  Because the locals have taken over all the toll booths and told the toll takers to go home because it is their turf now.  Many people assume these people are cartel but they are not.  The cartels have much bigger fish to fry.  We are actually not sure WHO these people are but they are quite polite.  You drive up to the toll booth and they are there with tin cans which they offer towards you.  You can drop in some coins and they will thank you.  Or you can shake your head "no" and they seem fine with that too. Our lack of curiosity about the identity of these people is testimony to how long we have lived here.  The longer you're here the less you need to know.  After a boring (we like it that way while traveling in Mexico) night in Ciudad de Obregon we headed out once more.

This statue (showing two different views) greeted us on our way to breakfast. the Yaqui indigenous people performed a deer dance representing the hunt.

On to Sinaloa.  Home to El Chapo, the Sinaloa Cartel and some really boring scenery.  Here was one of the few instances where I had a few worries/fears/doubts/fill in the blank.  Twice we were slowed to a stop at checkpoints.  This happens a lot in Mexico but always you see "officers" wearing uniforms (different ones-- it is impossible to keep track --but they ARE uniforms) and they have official looking cars, armored vehicles, tanks etc. alongside the road. At these two checkpoints there were no uniforms nor official cars.  Just guys in black pants and shirts pulling over every truck and bus and ransacking (well searching?) them.  We scooted slowly past with our eyes averted.  I expressed my concern to Michael who said, "No worries.  Didn't you see the Mexican flag on the sleeves of their shirts?  They must be real."  I pointed out that the guy who pumps our gas at the PEMEX station has the same flag on the same shirt.  "HMMMMM... you have a point," Michael said.  Drive on.

On the last night on the road we pulled into Mazatlan which is one of our favorite towns.  We had a room at a Best Western (don't gag) that dated from the '40s and was all gussied up with murals and original stuff and which was very neat.  We had a balcony overlooking the Ocean and Malecon and it made up for all the boring scenery (if you can call it that) that we had endured for days.  Refreshed and ready to get home we hit the trail once more and by late afternoon ascended the mountain into Chapala with a horizon to horizon view of the Lake. It is always at that moment that I realize we are truly back home.  So, it's been great seeing all our friends (well, Delta has been a bummer but we manage to be careful) and settling back into our old life.  Alex and Chico will arrive this week and then we can all just relax and wait for this damn plague to recede.  Take care, be safe and have as much fun as you can.  Could be a while until another blog.  They have cancelled EVERYTHING here and this is usually our most fun season.  Sigh.....

These three photos show the magnificent views from the rooftop of the Best Western.

Sitting on our balcony we saw this drone (note the loudspeaker) fly by. We could not quite understand what it was trying to warn the people along the Malecon about (possibly mask up).

Another beautiful Pacific sunset from our balcony.

We felt this rainbow was an auspicious sign on our return to our abode.

These views from our terrace reminded us why we love living here so much. It was great to finally be back home!

Adieu our friends.  And relatives.  Et al.  Have a good Labor Day if you are of the American persuasion but for God Sake do not go running around, merging with other humans and cavorting.  Maybe next year...maybe. 

A Last California Hurrah! We HOPE....

Before the Fun Stuff - An Alex Liver Update

We had a meeting with the Keck Liver Transplant team and the results were good.  Or goodish.  Alex doesn't need a liver transplant now and may never need one.  HOWEVER, they want to keep following him and put him on the transplant list in case he ever needs one.  He will need regular follow ups (that is sane) and, if he continues to improve those will become less and less frequent.  They still don't know (probably never will) what caused it, whether it could recur or basically anything other than what we told you.  Albeit this is a very quick recap.  Michael and I head back to Ajijic on August 5th and Alex will finish up two more tests/appointments and he and Chico should be back in the village in early September. Thank you all for keeping us in your thoughts and we're so glad and grateful and happy that this whole god-awful six months is coming to a close.  Let's hope we can keep it that way.  

Beach Blanket Bingo

I don't know.  Gidget and the Beach Boys made it look so simple.  You piled into your woody with the board on top, pulled into the beach and bam! you were there -- ready to ride the waves and drum up some romance.  Well, we weren't in search of romance but merely an easy, fun beach restaurant with waves lapping near our feet. Like so much else in the Eureka State, it wasn't easy.  Eureka means "I found it" but clearly they were not discussing a parking spot at the beach or the restaurant or basically anywhere in the state. California is blessed with 840 miles of coastline but a ridiculous paucity of beachside restaurants-- not to mention beach parking.  

We plotted our plan carefully and made reservations at Paradise Cove restaurant well in advance for a Sunday at 12:15.  We arrived 15 minutes early to insure they would not give our table away.  When we pulled in we were confronted by a sign that said "Parking Lot Full".  We drove up to the guys directing the massive traffic jam and said "But we have reservations.  We should be able to park."  The guy looked at us and said: "Oh, you're seniors.  We'll let you drive in."  And then screamed "Seniors" at the top of his lungs to no one in particular.  While somewhat embarrassing, this was good since people appeared to be walking in from a half mile away.  They get away with this kind of stuff in California.  So, we scouted a spot (hard) and Michael pulled into a space suitable for a car half the size of ours.  Fine.  We're there.

This place is mobbed.  There are lines for everything --the patio, the restaurant, the bar, the showers (there IS a beach), the restrooms.  The private beach is for anyone who pays to park but the restaurant is STRICTLY private.  They have a gaggle of men wearing shirts saying Guest Relations.  What this actually means is that they are bouncers who run down those who dare to breach the ropes cordoning off the restaurant from the beach.  Some dodos think they can just waltz in and take a table. It is fun to watch the exasperated Guest Relations folk go one on one with the entitled Malibu rope jumpers.  We DID have an excellent meal and much entertainment watching gulls snatching food from innocent diners and rope jumpers getting their due.  And we were very glad that being really old saved us from a half mile uphill walk to the car.  Not doing that again anytime soon.

One small section of the line to get into Paradise Cove.

Beyond the rope is the public beach.

You could sit on the beach under a shade umbrellas...

or inside (still on the beach) with the strip shades. (Notice the gas heaters which were certainly not necessary while we were there.)

When Old Acquaintances....

When Michael was very (too) young he entered the seminary.  When puberty hit at 14 he left the seminary.  Other things were calling to him beyond the Almighty apparently.  While there though, he met a bunch of interesting guys -- none of whom ended up becoming priests.  Over the years he has stayed in touch with some of them and they have even had reunions.  Several live in California so one of them, Chris, suggested that four of them get together.  They decided on San Diego and Bill, who just retired as a professor at UC San Diego  and his wife Diane graciously said they'd host so we packed our bags and headed down.  San Diego is one of our favorite cities and while we only had two days we packed in a lot.  Regrettably John had to cancel due to a health emergency but the three buddies had a good old time.  Bill's hobby is railroads and he is constructing this amazing train system in a section of his yard.  I've never been into trains much (two boys will wear you out on trains) but this was just fascinating.  The construction is very detailed and exacting.  He's well on his way but it is a multi year project with landscaping and fine touches to come.  Michael's pictures will reveal more of our trip.  We managed to grab a meal at El Prado restaurant in Balboa Park which is just a beautiful place.  Then back up to LA to deal with the medical whirlwind.

The Prado at Balboa Park

The USS Midway Traffic Controller Room

The Officer's Dining Room.

A WWII era Navy plane on the USS Midway.

A statue based on the iconic photograph taken in NY Times Square on VJ Day. The people below give you a realistic idea of the size of the statue.

Bill's train layout (only partially completed) was truly impressive.

One of the buildings on the campus of UC San Diego reminiscent of a California Mission.

One More Ode to Griffith Park

Griffith Park is 4 times the size of San Francisco's Golden Gate Park and 5 times the size of New York's Central Park.  It is BIG.  And it is diverse.  Grassy fields, canyons, zoo, observatory, caves.  Coyotes, mountain lions (really) fox, deer, etc., etc.  In our time in LA we have come to love Griffith park.  If we are missing Mexico we go to Crystal Springs in the Park on a Sunday which is almost exactly like going to any park in Mexico on a Sunday.  Piñatas, ranchero music, Mexican food grilling, Spanish all around you and kids racing by -- it's great.  

One day, Alex (the new fit Alex) suggested we go to the Bronson caves where they filmed parts of Batman and as well as Gunsmoke,  The Lone Ranger, Rawhide, Bonanza, Little House on the Prairie, Have Gun Will Travel, Bat Masterson, Rin Tin Tin, Star Trek Voyager, Wonder Woman and Invasion of the Body Snatchers,  So, impressive.  We set off from the parking area and confronted a sign advising us of "wildlife" such as rattlesnakes, coyotes and mountain lions.  OK.  Within a quarter of a mile who comes prancing down the trail but two coyotes.  Chicos ears hoist to previously unseen levels and the nose twitches violently.  The coyotes ramble out into the brush, skirt us, and return to the trail a few hundred feet later.  Eventually Chico's ears resume their normal shape.

Alex & Chico hiking up to Bronson Cave.

We found one of the best places to see the Hollywood sign was hiking up to Bronson Cave.

The cave was fenced, but I managed to get a clear shot by holding the camera above the fence.

Someone created this stone circle on the way up to the cave.

Another day, we went for a walk through Fern Dell in the park.  This area has a spring which feeds a stream that flows through a woods that has been planted with tropical and native plants.  The whole design and construction of the area (which is large) was done by the WPA during the depression.  With lots of shade, secluded little seating areas off the main trail and the sound of water flowing or cascading in the background, it is the perfect place to be on a hot LA day.  If you believe that a year of public service would be a good idea for all kids at some point, this is exactly the kind of project that would both help communities and be rewarding work.  While it is still beautiful, it could definitely benefit from a little "reno".

How Did We Land in New England ?

We went to see this place called Heritage Village one Sunday.  It depicts the architecture and lifestyle of LA in the late 19th and early 20th century. The Southern Pacific Railroad transformed Los Angeles seemingly overnight when it linked the East and Central States with Southern California in 1876.   At the Village was the first train station which was built in The Palms subdivision. This site was the only "urban" setting between LA and the sea (sound familiar Michael and Vicki?).  From there the line was built  up to Santa Monica.  The station was in operation until 1933.  The new settlers brought with them some of their "fave" architecture but new and interesting styles unique to California also emerged.  I was really surprised to see an Octagon House (several of which we've seen in New England) and one that was very, very similar to our house in Boston.  We had taken Chico on the outing with us so  we were unable to get the full tour of the interiors but the docent seemed rather annoying anyway so we were fine with that.  Chico, however, felt that we had come to visit every house and would leap up the stairs and stand at the door waiting for an invite.  He was disappointed.  In addition to the houses, they are renovating both a freight car and one of the trolleys that rambled through LA before someone thought it was a good idea to switch to cars -- not really such a good idea.  The photos will do the rest. 

This is The Palms station depot, which was originally a stop on the Los Angeles & Independence RR. It was renamed The Palms in 1886.

Deirdre & Chico make themselves at home on the steps of the Perry House.

A better view of the Perry House.

The Valley Knudsen Garden Residence.  This is the one that looked so much like our Boston house.

The Coastal Coral Tree is the official city tree of Los Angeles.

The docent arriving in period costume to conduct tours of Heritage Square.

The detail in the John Ford House (built in 1887) is due to the fact that John Ford was a wood carver.

The Lincoln Avenue Methodist Church was built in 1897.

The Longfellow-Hastings Octagon House is one of only about 500 octagonal buildings remaining in the US. It was built in 1893.

When Did Rocks Learn to Swim?

On a final humorous note, we were in Franklin Canyon Park where there was a small pond with more turtles per square foot than we had ever seen.  Chico, ever driven by his nose and the marvelous smells wafting into his brain, completely missed the multiple turtles lounging on the shore.  If he thought anything he probably registered them as rocks.  By accident, he came very close to one and it scampered (for a turtle) into the water with a splash.  He freaked!  He jumped back, crouched down and yipped/barked lustily.  Once he'd pulled himself together he wanted to chase it but his overarching fear of water prevented that.  It was a study in being conflicted.  Kill turtle- yes.  Water- no,no, no.  Ahhhhhhh!  He lived as did the turtle.  

Fortunately Chico never encountered this snapping turtle.

There were an amazing number of turtles considering the small size of the pond.

Chico was so exhausted from his adventures on this day that he had to take a nap!

Well, California isn't quite over yet.  We had a few more outings and adventures as well as our endless drive home through Arizona (which is like a different -- not in a good way-- country), Sonora, Sinaloa and Jalisco.  So one more installment before we settle into our cozy little village.  Enough for now.  Take care.