California, here we come, episode 8. In which we get to the Getty.

As I approach the end of my revisit to Los Angeles, I'm leaving mementos, monuments, and memories behind left and right.  I've been trying to leave my behind in the past for most of my adult life, but I certainly don't like to leave the past and any untold stories behind.  On our first full day I had planned to take a leisurely stroll with Mari down to the Santa Monica Pier, a scenic two-mile southerly walk from The Channel Road Inn.  A hotter-than-expected sunny day, a bustlingly-busy Pacific Coast Highway, and (let's face it, the real reason) a little bit of travel (laziness) lethargy left my 50-year-old self with no choice, but to drop the top on the rental car.  I know it was just two miles along the beach, but I was starting to feel my age, I suppose.

Here we are at the pier with the sunny Saturday multitudes.  A festively fun and colorful family experience whether you are with kids or, in my case, your best friend.  Although Mari was tempted by the ferris wheel, one of her favorite thrill rides, the "thrilling" combination of heights coupled with my vertigo kept temptation at bay.  Besides, the twistingly tangled and tight maneuvering I'd just experienced in the densely packed, paid ($15!) parking lot had more than fulfilled any daredevil desires I had been suppressing.

You can easily spend an enjoyable morning or afternoon at the pier. Lots of amusing activities, convivial vendors, fast food, and vividly vibrant views for you to enjoy.  Visit the official site for extensive visitor information including (far too many) details about that parking lot.

santamonicapier.org

The overflowingly-peopled pier, along with our previously savored dinner at Nobu, made up most of our Saturday.  In between, however, we were able to cross another item off the travel list.


The Getty Center had not only been personally recommended by a trustworthy fellow traveler, the Top 10 Los Angeles guide also featured the sprawlingly colorful museum complex as a "must see" and I'm always about a "must see."  The gardens alone are worth a sunny afternoon, but an afternoon alone is not enough to do justice to the incredibly vast and important art collections housed at the Getty.  Mari and I amused ourselves mostly with the beautifully lush gardens, a welcome site to those of us living in arid (and often colorless) climes everywhere.  My photos do not do justice to the meticulously groomed grounds and luxuriously lush central garden we so enjoyed on that beautiful Saturday afternoon, but I wanted to share as many inviting images as I could.

Be sure to thoroughly investigate the informative site before planning a visit.  You'll be thrilled to learn that admission is free as is the scenic tram ride up the hill from the parking garage (not free, but discounted to $10 from $15 after 3:00 PM).  

getty.edu/visit/center

For those of you who keep track of such things, that's $30 in parking for the day and we are thousands of miles from New York City!

We enjoyed a refreshing nosh at the Garden Terrace Cafe overlooking the central garden, but there is another cafe and a restaurant with gorgeous mountain views as well.

Mari and I were markedly mesmerized by the clever brilliance of these bright bougainvillea arbors.  Almost otherworldly, like something spotted from the Griffith Observatory, these lushly colorful creations pepper the paths between the museum complex and the central garden.

I realize I'm putting off our final two stops again, but I'm going to savor the memory of those Pink's hot dogs just a little longer and wrap up our California, here we come visit next time (maybe).

California, here we come, episode 6. In which we dropped the top.

When I was a kid playing with my Hot Wheels cars (toy of choice unless you count books), I fantasized about having a (red) sports car some day and, better yet, a convertible. Of course, growing up in New York didn't exactly make owning a convertible a practical dream, but it was a dream. A dream which eventually followed me to the sunny and impossibly warm ("hotter than the mouth of hell" to quote my dad's first impression) heart of South Texas.

My 30th birthday present to myself (which pooped out last April at barely 86K miles and almost 20 years if you are keeping up) was a convertible, of course. One of my happiest memories is driving the car to Florida for the 1996 Christmas holidays (trusty copilot Mari safely ensconced in the passenger seat for two thrillingly long days) and surprising my dad, who was a bit of a car enthusiast himself, but who always thought a convertible was an impractical (stupid) car to own.

Driving my parents to the beach with the top down the day after Christmas that trip is one of my happiest memories. Eventually, Mari and I enjoyed a long drive all the way to Key West, stopping halfway for the best key lime pie ever. Maybe it was the South Florida sun, or driving a few hundred miles with the top down, or maybe it was simply singing along with Mari and The B-52s, but that was damn good pie.

While I was planning our LA trip, I decided it was a good time to revisit my childhood fantasy, if only for the (five-day) weekend.  I'm also the prince (not quite king yet) of online coupons, so the convertible was actually cheaper than a standard car thanks to a coupon-code-favored-customer-discount combination that will likely not repeat until I turn 60.

I want to indulge in a moment to highly recommend The Channel Road Inn, a 5-minute walk to Will Rogers State Beach in Santa Monica.  We were treated better than family at this beautiful B&B and made to feel as special as a 50th birthday celebration warranted.  I was actually welcomed with a birthday card and warm chocolate chip cookies!

Much to Mari's disappointment, she learned long ago that a vacation for me is about being out and about checking one landmark, museum, church, concert, Broadway show, restaurant and/or hot dog (and/or meatloaf) off my travel list (don't forget fleamarkets!) and not about lounging around in a hotel no matter how cozy.  You can sleep and relax when you get on the plane and return home.  I must admit, though, that The Channel Road Inn did certainly invite rest and relaxation and I would love to return some day just for that.

Visit the inviting site to be sufficiently tempted.

channelroadinn.com

Sorry, must be present for warm cookies (and smiles) and evening wine & cheese.

I discovered this especially charming and comfortable place to sleep and stash our luggage by searching the hotels.com site and ticking the "Bed and Breakfast" box under "Accommodation type." Hotels.com is one of my go-to searches when planning a trip, but I don't always book directly through them.  Sometimes, contacting an inn or hotel directly and explaining how special your upcoming stay will be goes a long way to snagging a correspondingly special discount or a remarkably resplendent room.

I'll tell you about our 20th anniversary room upgrade at the Hilton Hawaiian Village in a future series, but (fair warning) a lot of smiling was involved.

Ask me about the 734 square foot luxury suite at the Austin Renaissance Hotel for all of $1.34 last month if you are wondering about hotels.com rewards, too.

Anyway, we didn't need to drop the top (or anything else, thank you very much) to get ourselves down to the beach on Tuesday morning. What a great way to spend a work day!  Naturally, the morning at the beach was actually on our itinerary, but that's because we had a few other to-dos to do Tuesday including rendezvous with James Dean, 2 Broke Girls, and a couple of "Pink" hot dogs.

Not surprisingly, as you can see, not too many people on the beach on a Tuesday morning to admire my 50-year-old beach bod.

Their loss.

A few hours, a few dips in a very refreshing Pacific Ocean, and a few snapshots of our well-rested tootsies, and we were off to not spend our day relaxing at the inn.

Channeling my inner rebel next time.