Donna and I visited Santa Barbara for a few days before Jack and Erin’s wedding to explore the coast town before relocating to the more remote resort where the wedding festivities would occur.
Santa Barbara, which bills itself as “the American Riviera,” is not Columbia, Maryland. It is comprised exclusively of beautiful, tanned residents. The weather is required by law to be sunny, dry and warm (but not too warm) every day. The majestic Santa Ynez Mountains to the north and the Pacific Ocean to the south sandwich white mansions with stucco roofs nestled on irrigated, emerald-green lawns adorned with swaying palm trees. There are walking paths, biking paths, parks, and wine tasting rooms on every corner with fine restaurants in between. Unlike its neighbors, L.A. to the south and San Francisco to the north, the traffic is not bad. And everybody owns a Bentley, a Mercedes S class, a Range Rover, a Maserati, or a Ferrari. Most people own one of each. Nobody works.
The thing is, everyone seems genuinely happy to find themselves in this paradise. It’s like going to a spring training baseball game in Florida – everyone is so thrilled to have escaped the lousy weather up north, and to be sitting in the warm sunshine in a tee-shirt and flip-flops with a cold beer watching a meaningless game, and there’s this overriding giddiness that permeates the stadium.
The other thing is, we met quite a few people who are older than us and who looked great. The active lifestyle enabled by the weather, the walking paths, and the vibe, seems to really suit people. I think I could get accustomed to it.
We arrived on Tuesday at the Fess Parker hotel, which was in the midst of a rebranding effort to remove the name of the old Davy Crockett portrayer. The hotel is across Cabrillo Street from the ocean, has a nice pool, and beautiful grounds.
The next afternoon we were joined by Donna’s siblings, Barb and Rich. We would meet in the morning and walk to Stearn’s Wharf, a little less than a mile away, grab a cup of coffee, and walk on. One morning as we were leaving the far end of the wharf, a woman who had been doing yoga, called to us, saying she and a fisherman had just seen the tail fins of a whale. We scanned the water for several minutes but never saw anything. We did spot a seal a hundred yards away from us, then disappear; our story is he was dragged under by a Great White shark, which bit into the whiskery fellow like a Juicy Fruit.
Our daughter Eileen and her husband Andrew caught up with us on Thursday and joined us as they were able. We always have fun with them, and this trip was no different.
One morning we visited State Street, the town’s main commercial throughway, with boutique hotels, attractions, shops, restaurants and bars. “Funk Town” is an area with boutique tasting rooms, cafes, galleries, and shops. There’s even an Urban Wine Trail — a self-guided trail of 20+ tasting rooms representing Santa Barbara County wines.
Another day we rented a car and drove to Solvang, a village in Santa Barbara’s wine country. At the concierge’s recommendation, we took Rte. 154, a winding two-lane road through beautiful scenery – wineries and ranches interspersed among the hills and valleys of Los Padres National Forest and Cachuma Lake. While much of the scenery was spectacular, we also saw the ravages of the recent wildfires – acres of the charred remains of trees and vegetation on both sides of the road in some parts.
We also visited the Santa Barbara Mission, established in 1786 by the Spanish Franciscans, with the first buildings, some of which still stand, being built in the 1790s. The purpose of the mission was to convert the Chumash Indians, who dominated the area. The Mexican government secularized the Mission in 1834, and during the 1830s Mexico and the Catholic Church played tug-of-war over control. After California became part of the United States, President Abraham Lincoln returned the Mission to the Church in 1865.
The Mission tour is powerful, taking you through the ancient buildings; displays of old tools and implements, memorabilia such as a photo of Babe Ruth with the friars, old chapel ornaments, and other historic artifacts; the interior grounds that feature a garden and cemetery; and the chapel, with a magnificent altar and brightly colored side walls. The buildings sit on a hill that overlooks the ocean, and at the foot of the property is a massive rose garden.
The Mission was especially poignant for me. My maternal grandfather, Grandpa Earl, had written in his autobiography about visiting the site in the 1930s. It was cool to think of him walking on the same path as me.
Donna and I had a great time with Barb and Rich. We all get along very well and really enjoyed spending time together and sharing some wonderful experiences together. We’re already planning our next vacation together.
Here are some photos from Santa Barbara:
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