La Brea Pits

On Suki's excellent advice we went to see the tar pits, and happened right into a tour of the various locations of the actual tar, where it seeps up from underground. Apparently people from the surrounding area call the museum once in a while, asking them to "get your tar out of my yard", etc. It's an oil-deposit -- a site where thick black oil has been naturally bubbling up for many many millenia. It's not going to stop any time soon, I expect. And we got to see the results of about a hundred years of digs: fossils, bones, history. Very very interesting.

It just looks like a soft spot on the soil; maybe an old campfire. But when you step on it it squishes under your shoe. It's oil. It's the beginning of a new oil seed.

Eventually it may look something like this one, a little further into the park, and fenced off quite thoroughly.

Some floating statues illustrate the miserable deaths of the many many animals who perished, here.

And now their bodies are exhumed, bit by bit,

...and cleaned, studied, classified, preserved,

...and sorted.

For our learning pleasure.

The displays are really amazing.

This is the skeleton of a ground sloth.

And they put on a great bit of sabre-tooth drama for us, as well.

We got right in the belly of the thing, as it were...

We all agreed that, for the money spent (less than half the cost of the San Diego Zoo or the Monterey Bay Aquarium), the La Brea Tar Pits was definitely the best paid-for attraction we saw on this trip.

Venice Beach

On an overcast morning we cycled out to Santa Monica Pier for lunch (wonderful Tacos!), and got really thoroughly sunburned when the sun slowly crept out. It was a beautiful day!

My friend. you are really amazing.

Pura Vida

No, we didn't go to Costa Rica. Pura Vida is the name of Jon and Suki's home, currently sitting in Marina Del Rey. We spent a few days at a hotel nearby, and now we can say we've finally been aboard!! Yay! She was under strict instructions to stay in berth, with a bad flu in her engine, and some skin repair happening, but at least we got a good look around, and to enjoy a lovely meal, cooked by Suki, in her galley. The kids spent a night aboard, with their dear friends, who definitely have the coolest sleepover-digs we've seen.

That flag looked so big in their hands. I guess it's a big boat!

Welcome!!

Left.

Right!

The main area (does this qualify as a 'mess'?)

Certainly it does!!

Kai and Hunter's most excellent clubhouse.

Good for all sorts of games...

And games in the dark.

Really. The dark.Who needs more than a 2-inch screen for light, anyway?!

Miracle Springs Resort and Spa

With great thanks to Miracle Springs Resort and Spa, we spent two days relaxing in the desert.

I don't deal with heat very well, to say the least. I'm usually toast after about 25C. I've also never had even the slightest desire to visit tropical resorts, blue-water pools and palm trees. It feels so fake. I must admit I was unimpressed when Suki suggested hanging out not only in the desert but in hot springs in the desert... but I know Suki's more genuine than the classless stereotype I harbour, and  I thought I'd better not complain about such an experience being handed to me on a platter. Thank goodness I didn't. It was fabulous!! It wasn't intolerably hot, most of the time, and in the evening the pools full of mineral-thick hot water were totally delightful. Time spent with our dear friends would have been wonderful, anywhere, but this really was a lovely place.

(Yes -- that's Suki and Kai photosynthesizing on the right.)

The rooms are definitely not five-star accommodation, but they're large, clean, simple, and enjoyable. They include a microwave, fridge, large couch, and coffee-table, as well as a balcony and air-conditioners. The bathrooms have a laundry-line which strings out across the tub, for the inevitable wet swimsuits, etc. Wi-Fi is free, and none of them are very far from the courtyard and pools.

In the too-hot afternoon, Suki and I worked on setting up her blog.

The largest and coolest of the pools, used by many (and many kids) gets rather yucky during the day, with bandaids, sunscreen, and plant-litter, but the surrounding hot pools have a higher concentration of healing minerals, anyway, so that was where we spent most of our time.

The cafe at the hotel has totally affordable meals. We ate an ample and tasty breakfast for 2 for $15, while watching the kids play in the pool, right beside us.

And TV. Of course, all the hotels we've been in had TV, but at Miracle Springs the kids all tumbled exhausted into bed after a long day of hiking, playing, and swimming, and watched some kind of reality-chef-show... while Suki continued her agonizing quest for a blog name.

Midnight. Good night!

Em! Hurry! Owl!

Just a few meters into our hike, Suki called in a whisper: "Em! Hurry! Owl! Right there! A burrowing owl!"

And there was her burrow. She guarded it fiercely, until we came too close, at which point she fled down the hill in a flutter of brown and dust.

Just a little hill.

But the little hill led to another, and another, and soon we were looking down at Desert Hot Springs from ravenously windy perch in the sun.

We watched L.A.'s haze sitting still on the horizon; I was glad to be above the thick of it.

Just a few nice little cacti. Tal found the skeleton of a much larger one.

OK -- we can do this!

Actually not. NOT. GOING. ANY. FURTHER.

"Come on, Annie! You can do it!"

And aaaaalllll the way back down again! It was really incredibly steep!

The Meaning of Vast

Many.

Unending.

Too far to see.

Too much to imagine.

Today we drove from Monterey to Desert Hot Springs, up over the plateau (avoiding L.A.), and into the desert. The heat was huge. The wind unrelenting. The sky forever. The hills were slow and creeping so that we almost didn't notice we were suddenly many many miles above sea-level. California is vast.

Vast: The number of almond orchards we passed. The number of trees of one species, in rows stretching further than our eyes could see. Endless: Propagation, irrigation, devastation.

Vast: The number of bees imported into California's almond orchards with one purpose; one use; one reason to live. Endless: our using them.

Vast: The sunny yellow dry dirt. The orchards. The hills. Endless: The sky. How many almonds are in the back of that truck? How many do we need to sustain our appetite?

Vast: Promise of money in the ground. Endless: Our thirst for it.

Vast: White blur of windmills. Quantity needed to rival oil. Endless: Proliferation.

Vast: Land covered with Joshua Trees. Endless: Going. Highway and humans speeding past them, our goal more important than stopping to look at those trees propped by Dali-esque crutches. The Antelope Highway runs through a vast land of wildlife sanctuary, preserving the finite for now. But the future and greed is endless.

The Monterey Plaza Hotel and Spa

Wow. This was possibly the most amazingly high-class place we've ever been.

When I looked for accommodation donations, I asked everybody. And of course I had a range of responses. One of the most friendly I had was from Monterey Plaza Hotel and Spa. When I told them I wasn't interviewing in Monterey, but that it was a bit of a break between interviews for us, they were even more enthusiastic, and encouraged us to relax, to visit the aquarium, down the road, and the local shops and restaurants, and to enjoy our stay.

We arrived exhausted, after a long interview in the San Francisco area, and then the afternoon drive to Monterey. After the long road trip, so far, our car is filled to the brim: The back is packed solid with our luggage, camping gear, etc, the ceiling hung with collected leaves and flowers, the floor paved with our rock-collections, the seats hung with drying clothes from beach-excursions, and the seats and every nook and cranny littered with the remnants of our dinner-on-the-road, various snacks, vehicle-entertainments, and other bits that came unpacked. We drove up to the hotel, passed the valet parking, and assumed there must be some better-for-us way of checking in. Nope! Valet was the only way. So we parked the car around the corner, feeling rather unfit for such obviously high-class accommodations, pulled out the bags we'd need for our time in Monterey, tidied up what we could of the mess, and then the kids and I followed Markus on foot, as he drove up to the Hotel Entrance. I checked us in as our car was swarmed by valets and attendants of various descriptions, and our luggage whisked up to our room. The woman at the front desk said "I am very pleased to assist you", and we wandered a little bewildered up to our room.

There was a vanity outside the spacious bathroom, there were 3 telephones (desk, bed, and toilet?!) the beds were clad in down, the balcony doors opened to a cool night view of Monterey Bay, kelp beds, and sealions grunting their evening conversations. Email was free. (Rhiannon emailed her friends.)

Before we'd even finished looking around our luggage arrived, and then a basket of fruit, water, cookies, milk in wine-glasses for the kids, and a totally unexpected card from the manager, saying he was delighted to host us.

Needless to say, we fell into a swoon of happy exhaustion, sitting on the balcony enjoying our gifts, with the distinct feeling that there had been some mistake. We are not the Queen. But we lived it anyway, and joyously spent two nights in this fabulous hotel.

The kids have 2 beloved animals and a baby with them, so we have a little housekeeping-test going: If we leave them in the room when housekeeping comes to make the beds, how will they be treated? They've never been treated badly, although once Fwog (above) appeared to have had a rather vigorous massage. But the Monterey Hotel housekeeping passed our test, too:

Meme seemed to be enjoying her view of the water.  :--)