A Goodbye Tour
With our departure approaching fast, we loaded up the car this weekend for a whirlwind goodbye tour of some of our favorite places in California. We set out late Friday afternoon and drove up through Clear Lake, a down-at-the-heels community full of trailer parks, diners, RVs, and a huge, gorgeous lake, which always seems to us like a place you’d go if you were in the witness protection program—in the middle of nowhere, an easy place to disappear. Our destination was Ukiah, a small town we stumbled upon on one of our very first road trips three years ago. There isn’t much in Ukiah except a great restaurant, the Ukiah Brewing Company; a cute bakery; and a farmer’s market. But there’s something peaceful about the place, and School Street, the main shopping street, is full of cute shops. Dinner Friday night, breakfast at the bakery Saturday morning, and a stroll through the farmer’s market kicked off our weekend tour.
Next stop, Saturday afternoon: a market in Boonville for sandwiches, and then on to a picnic at John Hendy Woods, our favorite redwood grove. We’ve seen a lot of redwoods in California, but these are our favorites. Last time we were there, I was pregnant and just beginning to show; this time, Lucia was out in the world with us as we strolled, gazing up at the sun-dappled treetops and taking in the silence. (Silence, that is, until Lucia let out several raptor screeches during our picnic—she scared away the birds I was trying to photograph.)
Wine-tasting was next on our list, and we revisited two favorites: Husch, the winery we belong to; and Roederer, which produces primarily champagne. Strategically timed nursing—on a blanket in the grass outside Roederer, gazing at vineyards and blue sky and bright poppies—allowed me to have a few sips; and Andrew, caught up in the spirit of our goodbye tour, bought two bottles of Husch gewürztraminer and a bottle of Roederer champagne.
It was time to leave the Anderson Valley behind—reluctantly; but we had other places to see. Lucia snoozed in the car as we meandered to the coast, our sights set on Mendocino. What a beautiful little seaside town, perched on a cliff overlooking the jagged coastline; the gardens we saw were wild with flowers in bloom. We strolled for a while, had an early dinner at the Mendocino Hotel, and said our goodbyes to this place, too.
We could have lingered longer in the charming town, but we had other plans for Saturday night. Andrew had booked us a night at the Little River Inn, a gorgeous hotel outside the city that overlooks the ocean, with a fireplace in our room, stacks of wood outside our door, rocking chairs on the balcony—and an unobstructed view of the water. It was a splurge; but we realized that in our three years here we’d never slept somewhere with an ocean view. And it was well worth it. Andrew built a fire, we put Lucia to bed, and then we sat on the balcony for hours, watching the sunset and then listening to the crashing waves as we talked about the changes ahead and drank the champagne we’d bought earlier that day. It’s hard to get more California than that.
Sunday morning, we ate breakfast on the sand and dipped Lucia’s little feet in the icy Pacific. And then we were on our way again.
This portion of our goodbye tour took us to a new place—Healdsburg—where we had lunch and did a quick stroll before leaving the massive crowds behind and returning again to familiar territory in Santa Rosa. After checking into our hotel, and after failing to convince Lucia to nap, we took a drive (she conked out immediately) until it was time for our eagerly awaited dinner in Glen Ellen, at The Fig Café. We got there right as it opened, knowing our good-humored, just-napped baby had about an hour in her before we’d be forced to tag-team our eating. We shared a bowl of mussels; then Andrew had steak and I had roasted quail. We drank (part of) a bottle of Husch gewürztraminer. Lucia, though happy, was full of extremely loud screeches, so we opted out of dessert. (Back at the hotel, once she was asleep, Andrew brought us dessert from the hotel’s restaurant as we studied the calendar we’d brought with us from home, finally confronting the reality of this cross-country move. We have no firm dates yet. It all seems just a tiny bit impossible.)
Today—Monday—we had breakfast at an old favorite, the Omelet Express in Santa Rosa; had cookies and pastry from the Basque Café in the Sonoma plaza; and then made a visit to the Clarks in Napa. And then we headed home.
It was a wonderful weekend, a weekend full of reasons why we’ll—gasp!—be sad to leave. Wine—vineyards—the Pacific—lovely food—we have discovered, and become attached to, so much. But we also know that the rolling green hills we drove through will soon be burnt and dry; the breathtakingly gorgeous weather, perfect for picnicking and strolling, will soon give way to the Devil’s Breath, aka the “Delta breeze.” That all seemed very far away, however, during this goodbye tour, and we were quiet on the ride back to Roseville, tired, our heads full of all the things coming our way in the days and weeks ahead.
Next stop, Saturday afternoon: a market in Boonville for sandwiches, and then on to a picnic at John Hendy Woods, our favorite redwood grove. We’ve seen a lot of redwoods in California, but these are our favorites. Last time we were there, I was pregnant and just beginning to show; this time, Lucia was out in the world with us as we strolled, gazing up at the sun-dappled treetops and taking in the silence. (Silence, that is, until Lucia let out several raptor screeches during our picnic—she scared away the birds I was trying to photograph.)
Wine-tasting was next on our list, and we revisited two favorites: Husch, the winery we belong to; and Roederer, which produces primarily champagne. Strategically timed nursing—on a blanket in the grass outside Roederer, gazing at vineyards and blue sky and bright poppies—allowed me to have a few sips; and Andrew, caught up in the spirit of our goodbye tour, bought two bottles of Husch gewürztraminer and a bottle of Roederer champagne.
It was time to leave the Anderson Valley behind—reluctantly; but we had other places to see. Lucia snoozed in the car as we meandered to the coast, our sights set on Mendocino. What a beautiful little seaside town, perched on a cliff overlooking the jagged coastline; the gardens we saw were wild with flowers in bloom. We strolled for a while, had an early dinner at the Mendocino Hotel, and said our goodbyes to this place, too.
We could have lingered longer in the charming town, but we had other plans for Saturday night. Andrew had booked us a night at the Little River Inn, a gorgeous hotel outside the city that overlooks the ocean, with a fireplace in our room, stacks of wood outside our door, rocking chairs on the balcony—and an unobstructed view of the water. It was a splurge; but we realized that in our three years here we’d never slept somewhere with an ocean view. And it was well worth it. Andrew built a fire, we put Lucia to bed, and then we sat on the balcony for hours, watching the sunset and then listening to the crashing waves as we talked about the changes ahead and drank the champagne we’d bought earlier that day. It’s hard to get more California than that.
Sunday morning, we ate breakfast on the sand and dipped Lucia’s little feet in the icy Pacific. And then we were on our way again.
This portion of our goodbye tour took us to a new place—Healdsburg—where we had lunch and did a quick stroll before leaving the massive crowds behind and returning again to familiar territory in Santa Rosa. After checking into our hotel, and after failing to convince Lucia to nap, we took a drive (she conked out immediately) until it was time for our eagerly awaited dinner in Glen Ellen, at The Fig Café. We got there right as it opened, knowing our good-humored, just-napped baby had about an hour in her before we’d be forced to tag-team our eating. We shared a bowl of mussels; then Andrew had steak and I had roasted quail. We drank (part of) a bottle of Husch gewürztraminer. Lucia, though happy, was full of extremely loud screeches, so we opted out of dessert. (Back at the hotel, once she was asleep, Andrew brought us dessert from the hotel’s restaurant as we studied the calendar we’d brought with us from home, finally confronting the reality of this cross-country move. We have no firm dates yet. It all seems just a tiny bit impossible.)
Today—Monday—we had breakfast at an old favorite, the Omelet Express in Santa Rosa; had cookies and pastry from the Basque Café in the Sonoma plaza; and then made a visit to the Clarks in Napa. And then we headed home.
It was a wonderful weekend, a weekend full of reasons why we’ll—gasp!—be sad to leave. Wine—vineyards—the Pacific—lovely food—we have discovered, and become attached to, so much. But we also know that the rolling green hills we drove through will soon be burnt and dry; the breathtakingly gorgeous weather, perfect for picnicking and strolling, will soon give way to the Devil’s Breath, aka the “Delta breeze.” That all seemed very far away, however, during this goodbye tour, and we were quiet on the ride back to Roseville, tired, our heads full of all the things coming our way in the days and weeks ahead.
Comments