Nicole schreibt...

California 2008

Going to California had been a dream of mine for almost twenty years now; it started with a string of American TV-series in the early 80s that were invariably set on the sunny west coast and I used to play out my California scenarios with Barbie and Ken at home (how fitting, some of you will probably think). But nothing came about it for several years until the weak dollar and finally a good travel mate made the dream come true now. I threw my lot in with one of the much maligned US airlines because US Airways offered by far the best rates and found that they had not improved one bit since I last braved an American airline in the late 80s. The obnoxious overblown security starting on Frankfurt airport already irritated me profoundly with a woman at check-in eyeing every last stamp in my passport (and then asking me Where is Myanmar? I almost fell over laughing) and asking stuff like: I see you fly into San Francisco and out of Los Angeles, how do you get from SF to LA? like it's any of their business. The seating was the most cramped I've encountered on a long-distance flight ever and the lunch served after departure nearly inedible (though in their defence I say that dinner served before landing was yummy and in-between the flight attendants gave us unlimited access to a big bag of snacks and free drinks in the galley). I had had a hunch that the 50mins I had in Charlotte would not be enough and surely enough my connection had just departed when we arrived. Luckily the next flight to San Francisco left only an hour later and I could get a seat on that one, so I spent the time till then running around trying to figure out how to work an American payphone and after failing that and wasting two dollars, finding an internet terminal to notify Peter in SF of my delay. Oh the joy of being picked up at the airport after nearly 24 hours on the move with an interminable yet sleepless flight to San Francisco to top things off! I had only just had enough energy for a quick dinner and a walk around the block before I crashed out in our lovely little hotel right at the entrance of Chinatown.

We spent the first day in San Francisco just walking around Chinatown and the touristy area of Fisherman's Wharf, which was really just an assortment of shops selling souvenirs and junk to tourists and the Union Square area with its proper shops and malls. Many had raved to me how beautiful SF is, but while I did quite like it, I can't say it bowled me over - just a pleasant midsized town with funky streets going uphill and downhill. I hadn't really been all that interested in visiting famous ex-prison Alcatraz (aka The Rock) if Peter hadn't insisted that it was a tourist must-do and in the end I was glad I did because I doubt you can get an understanding of what it must be like to be stuck in such a dreadful place until you have seen the tiny cells and the nearby yet unreachably far away skyline of downtown San Francisco beyond the water with your own eyes. I hadn't enjoyed the new musical Spring Awakening on Broadway last year very much but was willing to give it another chance and as luck would have it, the first US tour of the show opened in San Francisco just as we were in town so we went to see it that evening. And with a front stall seat and a great view of the stage I suddenly enjoyed it much better, which only goes to prove that it's no good being stingy on theatre seats. The last day in town was reserved for that other tourist must-do, the Golden Gate Bridge. We hired bikes for the day and first went to Haight Street (of Flower Power-era Haight-Ashbury fame, though not much of that is left there now) where I wanted to check out Amoeba Records, a huge store selling used CDs at incredibly low prices. With a large haul of (not quite) new CDs and lunch in our stomachs we went on to Golden Gate Park nearby where the Japanese Tea Garden was for me the highlight in this town. Incredibly beautifully sculpted with all the Zen-tranquility stuff those gardens are famous for.

I could have lingered for hours, but instead we were off again to finally cross the Bridge. In a way it amuses me that the Golden Gate Bridge is hyped so much because there is another bridge looking pretty much the same not far away but it's only this one that's jammed with tourists all the way (and a couple of emergency phones for all those who want to exit life the famous way). The bike tour ended in Sausalito, a pretty, almost Mediterranean little town, where the ferry returns tired bikers to San Francisco and our own time in town ended with a nice Chinese dinner close to the hotel.

Driving down scenic Highway 1 is what most California tourists do and we were no exception. Our first stop after leaving San Francisco was Santa Cruz with its famous boardwalk but it was too cold and windy to even just sit on the beach, so we just walked up and down the boardwalk, took a ride on the famous Great Dipper rollercoaster, a huge wooden structure dating from the 30s (but riding surprisingly smoothly for its age) and had a greasy fast food lunch before going on to Monterey, made famous by local boy John Steinbeck's novel Cannery Row (at the time of travelling there I was still grappling with his other epic The Grapes of Wrath which felt more like The Grapes of Boredom to me). Cannery Row is now choc-a-bloc with souvenir shops and leads to the famous Monterey Bay Aquarium, where you can watch fishes and all sorts of other sea critters in their natural habitat. I'm afraid that jellyfish were as yukky as ever to me even when watching them float around instead of being icky globs in the sand, but spontaneously decided that the sea otters, happily floating around in water and lazing in the sun, were my soul mates. Since I am admittedly not much of a nature geek, I did the driving down Highway 1 the next day, so that Peter could enjoy the scenery along the coast (I still don't dare to drive into American urban traffic, yankees have weird rules I will never get). We stopped at Julia Pfeiffer State Park first and then at Limekiln State Park where we could actually have lunch by a very pretty beach and hike some (mercifully short) trails to look at Redwood trees, a picturesque waterfall and the ancient limekilns that gave the park its name. We stayed in San Luis Obispo for the night, in a place called Apple Farm, which had made "old fashioned American country house" its style and was so overloaded with kitsch and frills it blew the mind (and yes, I loved it and would highly recommend it to everyone making the tour along Hwy 1 the massage - I got at their spa was also top notch, though at $80 for half an hour it better had!).

Next morning we finally reached the warmer sunnier climate of Southern California where I could make up for The Summer That Wasn't in Germany. First stop for the day was the mission in Santa Barbara, an impossibly pretty little town, completely rebuilt after a heavy earthquake flattened the first version. The Spanish Jesuits had built a whole string of missions along the coast when they first colonialized Mexican-California on what was then known as El Camino Real and it was this mission in particular I had wanted to see. Why? Back in 6th class at school, when I was 12, we read the book Island of Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell about an Indian girl who had been left behind on the island of San Nicholas in 19th century and lived there all alone for several years until she was finally found and brought to the mission in Santa Barbara (where she promptly died a few weeks later; go figure). That book made a great impression on me and contributed greatly to my obsession with California at that time, so it seemed fitting to visit the mission now and the girl's grave in the cemetary. The rest of the day was spent indulging in two of my favorite vices, first lounging on the beach and going for a swim, then raiding the shops at the Camarillo Outlet Center, shopping being such a delight with the favorable exchange rate these days (and sure enough there was a whole clump of German girls in Tommy Hilfiger shopping their little hearts out).

Los Angeles and Hollywood in particular was a place I had always longed to see and even complaints from other tourists about the shoddyness of the area couldn’t put me off. Yea, there is preciously little to see in Hollywood beyond Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, the Walk of Fame and the Hollywood & Highland Mall, but that alone was magic enough for me (and the added joy of being able to buy an iPod Nano at the Virgin Megastore for slightly more than half what it would cost here). If you want pretty go to Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive, but be prepared to feel slightly out of place in your regular tourist outfits among the gorgeous and rich (though on the upside parking in Beverly Hills was significantly cheaper than in Hollywood, the place is probably so rich they dont need the income).

The fact that it’s small world was brought home by the fact that my Washington-based friend Tricia was in town the same week as we were, so we met up for dinner at the Roosevelt Hotel just opposite the Chinese Theatre where she was staying. As luck would have it, a big Hollywood movie premiere was just going on at the theatre so we watched the spectacle for a while, even if the movie or the actors meant little to me, the only name I recognized was Shia LaBeouf, one of Hollywoods up-and-coming young stars who played Indy’s son in the latest Indiana Jones movie. And boy what a crush for autographs and photos when he crossed the street and came to our side! The three of us then took the LA metro to Universal City Walk to have a look at the fun shops there and have dinner at the wild west-style Saddle Ranch Chop House (though nobody was riding their bull, boo!).

Things got a bit complicated the next day with sightseeing and accommodation not really meshing well. Since the Hollywood Museum had been closed the previous day we returned there in the morning to get a look at all the costumes, props, autographs and other stuff from 100 years of movie history (and I realized once more how little I really know when it comes to movies, especially the classics), then we went to Anaheim where we had booked two nights in a lovely hotel next to Disneyland, although we'd go there the next day only. It just seemed better to chill at their pool for a while, then dress up properly to return to Downtown LA and see the musical Nine to Five there instead of spending all day running around and sit in the theatre sweaty and exhausted in the evening. They are trying to spruce up downtown to make it more of a living breathing city center, but beyond the cultural center with two theatres, the opera and the new Disney Concert Hall where some architects really ran riot with their fantasy (and the budget probably), there wasn't all that much too see and it was too far-flung to walk to Little Tokyo or the historic pueblo that was the core of what has become one of the largest messiest towns in the world. The musical, based on the 80s film of the same name and with music by country legend Dolly Parton, was great fun though, and I enjoyed myself very much enough to agree to wait at the stage door after the show to get our programmes signed by the four leads.

Still it was a good decision to spend the night in Anaheim already, so we were right at the gates of Disneyland in the morning and didn’t have to do any driving through LA's crazy morning rush hour traffic. I had been warned that Disneyland is a bit of a disappointment compared to other theme parks and I certainly found it lacking in great thrill rides even Space Mountain wasn't all what I remembered it to be from Paris and the whole Tomorrowland had the feel of Yesterland to me. I also found it pretty commercial with more shops than rides and the helicopter hovering above to monitor the crowds with a camera was downright annoying and would put me off further visits. There's something like security and there's something like Big Brother. Yet the love for detail and the perfect fantasy of places like Adventureland and New Orleans made Disneyland still worth visiting and I enjoyed myself (especially once the helicopter had finally departed, apparently homeland security thinks terrorists don't plan anything once lunch hour is past).

Next stop on the tour was the southern-most town of California, San Diego, which also turned out to be my favorite place in the state. We first visited the USS Midway, an aircraft carrier that did service until after the first Gulf War in 1991 and while I am certainly no military geek, it was interesting to see the ship and get an idea of what conditions aboard must be like in today's armies. I then spent the afternoon chilling by the hotel pool before we went to the Historic Old Town which was as so many things in the US a fake with very few real historical buildings but very many souvenir shops, but did a good job at recreating the atmosphere of those first Spanish-Mexican settlements in 19th century.

San Diego has an awful lot of stuff to visit and see, but frankly, this far into the trip all I wanted was relaxation. However, since I hadn't been to a zoo for something like twenty years, it seemed that the famous San Diego Zoo would be worth visiting. We saw panda bears, polar bears, a lazy tiger, elephants and many many more of God's fine creatures, but it kinda saddened me that so many animals first conjured up images from animated movies and going "Simba!" at the sight of a lion and to just catch quick looks at them instead of at least observing them for a while in the wild. So while I think zoos are a good way to introduce children to animals and are good to help preserve nearly extinct species, they just aren't really my cup of tea. I was glad when we finally left to spend the afternoon on the beach, but after a bright sunny morning it clouded over just as we finally reached Mission Bay and a rather cold wind started blowing. So we didn't last all that long and instead spent more time wandering around the Gaslamp District in the evening, a few restored streets with many restaurants and bars offering outdoor dining which gave it all a nice Mediterranean feel and where I could indulge in excellent Mexican food.

To make up for the lack of beach time in San Diego we stopped in Aliso Beach the next day on the way back north, a gorgeous and totally uncrowded clean beach with great surf just south of pretty (and expensive-looking) Laguna Beach. Then we continued to Long Beach and our next abode, the Queen Mary, one of the last grand ocean liners on the Transatlantic route until the 1950's and now a hotel. And boy did it feel grand to enter the ships ancient lobby with suitcases as if about to embark on a luxury cruise! We walked around the ship, mingling with sightseers, until it was time to get ready for what turned out to be the only disappointment of the trip: The Oktoberfest at the Alpine Village in Torrance. I had been curious to see how Americans would do a German Oktoberfest, but the shops at the village were all closed and the tent was empty. Only the regular restaurant was open and there was even live dancing, but it all had a very 80's retro feel to it. At least the food was proper German fare this time, but since there was no Oktoberfest-feeling at all (or anything resembling party atmosphere) we immediately left again after dinner. And thus the trip came to an end with one last night in Santa Monica to spend the last California day chilling on that world famous beach as well as getting a look at hippie Venice Beach next door. After dinner on Santa Monica's 3rd promenade and a night at the highly recommended Sea Shore Motel, Peter took me to LAX Airport the next morning, where we had planned to have breakfast together but could only find one Starbucks in the arrivals hall (and not even in Terminal 1). Stupidly enough once I was past the security checks, there was a whole row of nice places to eat and drink. Somehow US Airways contrived to depart Los Angeles on time and arrive in Philadelphia half an hour late, so I nearly missed my connection to Frankfurt, but it only just worked out and even my luggage arrived with me, which half redeemed the airline to me. Am I glad that I finally got to see California? You bet! Am I aching to go back? Honestly, I don't think so. If I want beaches, there are plenty of beaches closer to home, if I want shopping, there are plenty of corners in the USA I haven't seen yet and if I want big cities, there are nicer ones than those in California.