Sonoma

We tried to get into baseball while we were in San Francisco as we thought we might see a game as the local team was playing at home while we were there. First, we thought we would watch a game on TV to see if we liked it. The commentating is amazing, two guys pumping out a monotone endless stream of drivel: “Badowski on the plate Long Arm Lewis to pitch he’s got nine strikes versus southpaws this season Badowski on 0.28 near the all time top 10 for Badowskis batting on Wednesdays he’s going to need a 2 over 1 ball foreskin play minimum to beat that tonight” What’s it all about?

We had a few wine fuelled days in Sonoma, the slightly less famous wine district next to Napa, north of the bay. From what I can remember, we had a great time. We stayed in Sonoma town itself with has a large, pretty square in the centre surrounded by restaurants, shops and hotels. We had the best meal of our trip to date in a restaurant next door to our hotel called the Girl and Fig. Getting in was quite an adventure. We rocked up on Saturday night and the place was packed. There was no chance of a seat in the dining room but there was the option of eating in the fairly large bar area, if you could get a seat. They had no system for queuing so you had to pounce just as someone was leaving their seats. It was really quite funny to watch as everyone was trying to jockey into position close to the diners that looked ready to finish. One chap boldly moved in front of Mags eyeing up the spot Mags had been coveting for 10 mins. She had steam coming out of her ears as you can imagine. I though the guy would turn to stone with the look Mags had on her face, but fortunately for him he avoided her glare. Mags said, “I’m not having this” and proceeded to ask the diners if we could have their seats when they were finished. One was an Aussie and with a little banter the seats were ours – outstanding. Anyway, all worth waiting for. I had the pork and seafood stew and Mags went for duck breast, which were both superb.

To travel here, we picked up our convertible and, after 6 weeks of non-stop sunshine, the rain started at the very moment I was handed the keys. It hasn’t stopped yet but we didn’t let that get in the way of a good wine tour. We found a service where you get a driver to drive your car, which saves quite a bit, compared to hiring a limo and driver. We had a very knowledgeable chap called Rob who recommended some very good places and had complimentary tasting cards for most of them, so we saved there as well as most wineries charge for tastings. They do tend to give you a good glug so I think its fair enough. Most are boutique wine makers with a very small production and sell out through the cellar door so, if you want some, you have to visit and take it away as it doesn’t appear in supermarkets or wine shops. I think we did 5 wineries and bought loads of wine, which is now squeezed, into our very small boot (trunk).

Were now on the mystery part of our trip as we haven’t booked anything until we land in Canada, so were going to set off this morning heading roughly north and see what we find. Hopefully Oregon and then Washington unless things have changed recently.

San Francisco

San Francisco, so lets talk about bridges. We came in on Bay Bridge with doesn’t get much press because of Golden Gate, but is quite astonishing; over 4 miles in length in two spans connecting Oakland to San Francisco via Treasure island. Driving over is like flying.

We’re staying in a very swish flat on the 21st floor of a large apartment block next to the Ferry Building with a terrace overlooking said Bay Bridge. Excited to be back in the city, I think we may have overdone it a bit yesterday. After the 5 hour drive from Yosemite, we were in need of a little R&R so headed down to Fisherman’s Wharf (where else) where Mags selected a very fine Art Deco establishment on the Waterfront where we had roast crab overlooking Alcatraz across the bay, with the ferries chugging around and day sailors getting sea sick in the feisty wind. It was such a superb meal that we had to wash it down with plenty of Californian Chardonnay. We made our way slowly home via a few bars to check out the scene.

While we were here the football season ended with Man U winning again. C’est la vie – C’mon Barcelona.

Spent Tuesday trekking out to Sausalito, a very pretty suburb across the bay, which caused us to walk over the Golden Gate Bridge – quite an experience with views east across the rest of the bay, and west to the open ocean. Caught the ferry to Alcatraz on Wednesday morning. Well, it has to be done. Very interesting tour including a mandatory audio tour where we queued up in the shower block to receive our headphones with the helpful staff instructing us to press play for play and stop for stop. Not sure that’s entirely necessary, but keeps a few people employed anyway. The cells really are tiny and it must have been a grim existence as an inmate. Of the various escape attempts, only one was possibly successful. Three men dug themselves out and onto the roof, disguising their disappearance by leaving behind hand crafted dummy heads in their bunks. They were never seen again. Did they drown or hightail it to Mexico?

The Ferry Building close by is home to the largest farmers Market in the state, every Saturday. Unfortunately we missed it but there’s a smaller version on Thursdays where I managed to buy some organic veg. Mostly, we’ve been eating out as there’s thousands of places to choose from. Legend has it that there is a restaurant for every 28 Franciscans so the whole city could theoretically sit down for dinner at the same time. Although there’s no such thing as Californian cuisine, there is a theme running through. There’s a tendency to pile on the ingredients. You could easily be offered duck breast, with shaved fennel, pomegranate essence, wilted spinach, roast carrot, and strawberry jus. Makes the dishes a little too complicated for me but it’s a small gripe as the food is fabulous really. We had a very a fine meal in Chaya Brasserie on the Embarcadero. Its sort of Japanese / French so we had Sashimi to start followed by lamb shank – sort of works. The fine Pinot slipped down rather well so Mags asked for a second bottle. “Aw, you English” was the response from the waiter.

Like all major cities, there are plenty of mad, homeless people, and San Francisco has at least its fair share. I don’t think you’re a proper local unless you have a cardboard sign hanging around your neck, muttering loads of nonsense to yourself. Otherwise, walking around is generally safe and hassle free albeit a bit of a struggle up and down the hills. We stumbled into one area that started looking at bit dodgy north on Market Street after all the posh boutiques of the Westfield Centre, there was suddenly a lot of dudes with heavy gold chains, jeans with bottoms scraping the floor counting cash on street corners. We made a tactical retreat.

Central Coast

Central Coast, the bit between LA and San Francisco. We stayed a couple of nights in a fine motel in Cambria called the Blue Dolphin. We were right on the coast, facing the Pacific which blew up a steady gale all the while we were there – very refreshing.

We took a short trip north to Hearst’s Castle, named after William Randolph Hearst, the very wealthy only heir to a mining fortune made by his father in the early 20th century. William went into publishing buying up newspapers and in his spare time spent his dosh buying loadsa stuff and cramming it into a palatial and weird mansion he built on a hill overlooking the family’s immense country ranch. His family bequeathed the estate to California who run it very well as a tourist attraction. It’s a very interesting place. The buildings, comprising a very large main house and 4 separate guesthouses, benefit from the impressive views and strangely gothic / Spanish / church architecture. The rooms are bursting with artifacts and art collected buy Hearst. It’s like a mini British museum but with all the periods and cultures mixed together. So you might have a stuffed owl from the Victorian era, next to an Indian tapestry facing an Egyptian sculpture. Old Willie had a fair amount of influence with his money, and he had a keen interested in films. The main house has a full sized cinema room where we saw a short home movie with Charlie Chaplin playing tennis with Bill Tilden, the first American to win Wimbledon, on the castles’ court. Clark Gable, Bob Hope and Winston Churchill were also guests at one time or other. You have to take one of four guided tours offered to visit, but well worth it.

Unfortunately for us, the Pacific Highway, which runs along the coast to San Francisco, was closed north of Hearst’s castle due to a landslide so we had to drive up to Monterey via the freeway inland. We stayed near Cannery row, where scores of women used to can sardines all day, and is now turned into a tourist strip full of restaurants and souvenir shops.

Near Monterey is the wealthy town of Carmel which we drove through briefly just to make our day on our way to visit the world famous Pebble Beach golf course, scene of Graham McDowell’s US Open triumph in 2010. The course is one of four located in a private suburb surrounded by fuck off villas. You have to pay $10 just to enter and drive around gawping at the rich people. The main course is actually a public course so anyone can play but you have to stump up $500 per round and stay 2 nights in the plush lodge which isn’t cheap either – so that rules out most of the population. (Although that’s about 50 Aussie dollars so c’mon you Aussies get over here.) We went into the lodge anyway, had a look around, took a few snaps and walked around the eighteenth green which runs right along the ocean – gave me a thrill but didn’t do much for Mags.

We continued south along the ‘1’ to the Big Sur which is a stunning scenic drive and had lunch at Nepenthe with majestic views along the coast.

Were now in Yosemite where we awoke to the news that the Americans have finally found Bin Laden. The meeting didn’t go too well for Osama and the Americans have all apparently gone crazy but it’s hard to tell the difference here.

Yosemite

Yosemite. This is the place to come if you like trees, there’s literally millions of them, a forest I think it’s called. We are in a wilderness area here and there are a few dangerous animals to look out for, including black bear and mountain lion. The local advice if you are attached by a mountain lion is to fight back. Words of wisdom there.

I woke up this morning to the news that scientists have discovered a link between Alzheimer’s and Obesity. Apparently, large people are more likely to develop dementia, or is it that stupid people are more likely to become fat. Controversial I know, but that’s how Sue sees it. Anyway, inspired by this story, I selected a harder than usual hike for the day’s excursion in an attempt to hang on to the few remaining brain cells that I possess. With Mags under the weather, I set off solo for a 4 mile hike to Chilnualna falls. I have no idea how that’s pronounced so I call them the Chimichanga falls in honor of all the Mexican restaurants in California. Around 20 minutes in I came to a very impressive waterfall with water thundering down at a tremendous rate. I took a few pictures congratulating myself on being in better shape than I thought. I was about to head back down when I bumped into David from Virginia. After the usual pleasantries: “You must be pleased to be out of the London fog” and “No, I didn’t go to the royal wedding” he said how pleased he was that there was this little fall so early on in the walk. “Little” – it looked like Niagara to me. Anyway, a bit more walking to do. After 2 hours of uphill wheezing I arrived at the said Chimichanga falls, even more spectacular with the water consumption of the UK cascading down every second. Back home pronto for a few cold beers.

We’re in a small cabin at the southern end of the park in a small community called the Redwoods. There are lots of holiday cabins dotted amongst the pine trees. Its very tranquil with a creek babbling through around 20 yards away.

Yosemite valley is about 30 minutes drive away and, although fairly busy, really is an extraordinary place, carved out through glacial erosion, giant granite cliffs spill water into the valley from an incredible height. The scale of the valley is hard to take in as it really is gigantic, everything is super-sized. The Yosemite falls is the predominant feature; it stands 2,425ft above the valley and is the largest in North America, spilling more water than a losing Aussie cricket captain.

The park is beautifully maintained with plenty of walking and cycling trails for all abilities. We managed a few walks around the valley and a slightly more strenuous climb in Mariposa where there is a grove of giant Sequoia trees. There’s less people here, thinning out the higher you climb. Near the top, where there was still plenty of snow, we watched as the Rangers felled a pine which crashed to earth with an impressive boom echoing through the forest.

Kings Canyon

We motored out of the desert in a cloud of dust and arrived at our new spacious cabin near Kings Canyon national park.

Our accommodation was a little bizarre. To start with, we were in a three bedroom cabin as the smaller ones were already taken. We were one of about six cabins in a lovely, remote country about 3000 feet up. It was a huge block with a small lake, pine trees galore and an old, abandoned airport which was quickly being overrun by nature.

In our apartment, there’s a prospectus for a business plan for 75 cabins with a plan to install a solar power array in the airstrip, which obviously didn’t get off the ground. Our cabin looked like it needed a bit of work, or it too would be in danger of falling back into the earth. Our host greeted us with the news that there had been a bit of a mouse problem in our cabin and to inform them if we see any – not a great start. We actually had a really enjoyable and relaxing stay. There was no TV or internet so we both sat on the deck reading novel after novel and chilling out, interspersed with some lonely walks around the site amongst the pines, wild flowers, hills and abandoned buildings. There were birds of prey aplenty (not my thing so can’t say exactly what they were). Four of them came really close as they rode the thermals on top of a hill we were walking. We were a little nervous when they starting circling directly over us, so we quietly moved off.

Our trip into Kings Canyon itself wasn’t entirely successful. We rose another 3000 ft to 6000 on the short 20 minute drive to the park. As we approached the ranger station, we started to see snow by the roadside – and not just a few patches of leftover winter falls, but 10 foot high, solid ice. When we arrived the temperature had dropped to 49F and we were surrounded by the white stuff. The chap on the car next to us opened his boot and pulled out a pair of skis!

So it came as no great surprise when we discovered the road to the canyon itself was closed. We did manage a very scenic drive along the roads that were open; a short walk around Hume lake, where there is a Christian camp (Hail Mary); and a few excursions to see the giant sequoias that dominate the landscape here including the massive General Grant tree, 267ft high and estimated to be around 2,200 years old which is even older than Alex Ferguson.