I wish I could go on road trips enough to say that it's a hobby. Some people like crafting,
Road trips are about seeing. It's about finding your place somewhere that you didn't acknowledge existed before--somewhere that is beautiful in its own uniqueness and is a place that many call home, the way you do your home. And what's better is you can have those liberating, seeing moments without breaking the bank.
When we are on the road, I try to entertain Dalton. Sometimes, I just like asking him questions, mostly things I wouldn't think to ask otherwise. It fuels conversations that make the hours pass quickly. Click here for a list of fun questions to use on your next road trip. Usually, we read. Dalton prefers that I don't drive--I know he secretly thinks I'm bad at it--so I bring a book along and we try to get through it before we pull back into our driveway. This time we read The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which was a lot of fun for Dalton to listen to because I was switching back and forth between Spanish and English, sometimes saying English words with Spanish vowels. I'm pretty sure there were a few Spanish swear words in the mix because Dalton would laugh, and I'd be confused.
When we arrived in Santa Cruz I felt like the air was instantaneously mending the desert-induced cracking of my skin. I could feel the salty stickiness of the air. We stayed at the Comfort Inn Boardwalk located just two blocks from the famous boardwalk and beach. It was relatively cheap considering the prime location and free breakfast in the morning, but don't be fooled the breakfast was sketchy at best. I stuck with frosted flakes every morning because it was the only thing that didn't look like it had a grey tinge. We walked everywhere, and had easy access to the downtown trolley from a location at the end of the boardwalk where the pier begins. For 25 cents you hop on the trolley and go to Santa Cruz's shopping and dining hub.
First, the food. We weren't let down once! We dined on the pier our first night, only choosing this spot because we were following the sound of a barking sea lion. While I love sea lions more than almost any other animal, they sure are a lot uglier up close. We decided to eat at Miramar Fish Grotto, but I was hesitant at first because it was 7 p.m. and only a few people were inside. Granted, it was a Thursday. The table was right next to an open window that looked out onto dozens of surfers riding the huge swells crashing toward the shore. It only seemed fitting that we order a huge bread bowl of clam chowder and fish 'n' chips. The bread bowl was flaky, doughy and crunchy, while the fish was crispy and not too heavy. We spent the rest of the night walking all that goodness off, just getting the lay of the land and plotting our next day.
We started off the next day by going to Gayle's in Capitola. So many people go to this bakery/deli that you have to take a number to be helped. It was an experience, and because of their popularity they can afford to charge almost $2 for some of their cookies. Mostly, we stopped in because I'd heard about their large eclairs, and if you went to our wedding, you'll know that Dalton's only request was to have chocolate eclairs at the reception. He required nothing else. Then we stopped by Capitola beach where, again, the swells were outrageous and I so wished we had time in all of our plans to slap on wet suits. But there was too much to see in only a few days. We went in some quirky shops and saw the brightly colored houses that lined the beach. We went back to Santa Cruz before noon to check out the Boardwalk with its wooden roller coast, deep-fried Twinkies, and all. Most of the rides are more carnival-esque, but the 1920s wooden coaster was a blast, and my face in the picture at the end of the ride proved it. Well, now that I think of it, I probably looked more traumatized. My opinion about the deep-fried Twinkie is this: it is no longer identifiable as a Twinkie. The filling is no longer recognizable and the batter makes it taste more like a corndog smothered in chocolate. I nibbled it and was disappointed. 
When my brain was almost turned to mush, we lied on the beach waiting for the downtown trolley to come along. The sun only came out for 20 minutes, but it was enough to fry my white cheekbones. What is is that feels so good about snoozing in beach sand? I fell asleep listening to a 50-year-old surfer talk about his nomadic ways to passerby, saying he left his old home to live a simple life here. He has no one, and I'm not sure he had a home. But he did have a bottle of beer and his waves. The trolley finally arrived and we hopped on. A few minutes later we were unloaded in the middle of a long street lined with lowly artists making trees from recycled metal and weaving bracelets from hemp. There were book stores, candy stores, foreign goods, paper stores, eco-friendly stores. I was afraid because Dalton claims that he "doesn't like hippies." He will never willingly eat tofu, he says, or buy a Hybrid for any purpose other than saving money. He scowls at "hipster" clothing. He is funny. 
It was 3 p.m. when we remembered we realized we were starving after only tasting bits of junk food all day. We walked into what seemed to be an Irish-inspired pub/restaurant called Rosie McCann's. I had meatball soup and a Greek salad while Dalton had a calamari steak sandwich. He loved it, and I was just so-so on my meal. I didn't even touch the meatballs because I was sure they were frozen for a long period of time before. We continued to walk, finding gifts for a few of our family members and listening to a few impressive street musicians. Finally, we went back to our hotel to recuperate from all the walking, and then were at it again, walking back to the pier for more time with the sea lions and the sunset. It was unreal. The fog was so thick that the sun turned into the moon, having no rays, faint and white. Then we took a drive to last-standing natural bridge on the state-owned beach, then to "Pleasure Point." Both were majestic, but the fog made them eerie. I kept watching for a pirate ship to emerge through the sea-clouds. |
| Dalton and Grandma Joan, Dec. 30, 2011 |
It was such a peaceful getaway, though Dalton's Grandma Joan Bennett passed away unexpectedly in the middle of our trip. For me, it almost made it all the more peaceful. It was a bit solemn at times, but I often thought of her and how happy I was that she could move on from this trying life. She made me feel loved and accepted from the first day I met her. I found that it was so easy to talk to her, and she had such a genuine love for her family and her memories. After driving back through Reno to attend my brother's graduation party, we headed home to grab clothes for Monday's funeral. On that day, all of Joan's five boys were reunited after 13 years. It was exciting and beautiful to see the love and support they had for each other, even after not speaking for so long. Families are binding and true institutions of God, and I felt that.
"Death ends a life, not a relationship." -- Mitch Albom
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