The French Riviera - First Stop: Menton

June 2022 

We are home hunting on the French Riviera. After taking the phenomenal step of selling our Goleta, CA home of 22 years in April we find ourselves in a sort of uneasy limbo. Before returning to the rental we scored in Goleta in September, we hope to have a good idea of where exactly in the South of France we’ll spend our retirement years. 

This summer we are basing ourselves in different Riviera towns over an 8 week period. Online research over the past six months has us favoring two towns we hadn’t visited on prior vacations in the Riviera. Menton, the easternmost city, on the Italian border, appealed to me the most due to its subtropical microclimate and the fact that it doesn’t draw hordes of tourists like Nice and Cannes do. Daryl has been quite enthusiastic about a small town west of Cannes called Théoule Sur Mer. He liked its striking natural beauty – shapely red cliffs and forested slopes – and easy access to a network of hiking trails into the forest. 

Daryl’s dream home is an old, rustic stone house on a big lot out in an area that feels semi-rural. Lots of trees, terraces for dining, preferably with fruit trees and flowering perennials. He wants to wake up to the sound of nature. He wants seclusion, but easy access to a vibrant town with a decent selection of restaurants, food markets and cultural entertainment. 

The home of my dreams is beside the water. From my door I can step onto a coastal path leading to a beach. Easy access to public transportation so that I’m not dependent on a car. Our car would be used for shopping errands, out of town excursions, and multi day road trips. I’m fine with either a traditional or contemporary style house, as long as it isn’t in need of serious renovation. If décor needs updating that’s okay. I want lots of light, big windows, glass sliding doors leading to terraces, an open plan kitchen, dining room and living room, and delightful views from most windows and doors. I want a garden, one that is easy to maintain. A quiet neighborhood is crucial and I’d like to be able to walk to parks and green spaces. A bakery, café, and market are ideally within walking distance, but a short, easy drive to these places would be acceptable. I want to be close to a train station and be able to easily access a cosmopolitan city, a safe one, where I can find diverse dining options as well as cultural events. 

Menton 

On June 6 we arrived at our vacation apartment close to 9:00 PM. Immediately struck by the town’s vertical geography arising from a location between dramatic mountains – the Alpes-Maritime - and the Mediterranean Sea. From where we parked the car we had to ascend a few flights of stairs to reach our accommodation, which was the bottom level of a three storey house perched on a cliff. From the many floor to ceiling windows of the apartment we had jaw-dropping views of the town, the contoured coastline all the way to Italy, undulating mountains and, of course, the serene Mediterranean Sea. Between us and the steeples of the old town’s historic monuments, I was surprised and jarred by a concrete forest of high rises. This was a much bigger town than we’d expected.

Stayed at a ground level apartment in this house located in Borrego neighborhood of Menton

Famished and weary that first night, we dumped our luggage in the apartment and descended those many stairs that zig-zagged down a terraced garden. A private lane dropped down to a busy road. Turning toward the sea we encountered a strip of lively restaurants with a very local, neighborhood vibe. We opted for pizza and a caprese salad on the buzzy terrace. The temperature was perfect. And so was the meal we were served, which came as a surprise. Upmarket quality at such a non-pretentious place! What an amazing first impression of Menton! 

Within 24 hours of arriving in Menton we both felt sure we could have years of joy in a home in this city. It felt noticeably different to other Riviera towns where we’d had vacations in the past. We found ourselves among regular folks going about their everyday lives. When we studied the windows of real estate offices we were dismayed to see predominantly apartments advertised and only a handful houses. As we trudged up and down the city’s streets in the days that followed, our initial positive impressions kept getting reinforced. We were seduced by the charming historic center, pedestrianized, with vibrant squares and beautiful old buildings painted in the bright warm colors typical of the region. Litterless streets, well dressed locals who smiled and greeted us, and a calmness in the air. We were impressed by the many public gardens too. Much of the vegetation made us feel right at home. Citrus trees stood out prominently in gardens and the streets. Jacaranda, in full bloom, seemed to thrive in this climate. Palm trees, bougainvillia, rosemary bushes, cypresses, olive trees, and fig trees grew all over town. Could this town work for us?

View from the lane where we were staying in Menton

Menton turned out to be a lot bigger than we expected. It offered a wide variety of restaurants, cultural entertainment including classical music, decent shopping and excellent food markets. But the negatives were unmissable. Charmless apartment blocks, crammed into the city really ruined the skyline. The beaches were rocky, except for the one closest to the port which was gritty. Most people used water shoes when they swam. When we waded into the sensational water we realized rocky beaches were okay and didn’t prevent enjoyment of a swim in the Med. The roads through town were steep, with sharp curves and often busy. Due to Menton’s location at the base of steep mountains there was only a narrow band of flatness along the coast. Houses were built on slopes, resulting in multiple levels, like layered cakes. Our vacation rental showed us exactly what we’d be dealing with. A terraced garden wouldn’t be easy to maintain. 

The views, though, oh god the views, especially from the upper level of the house … Wow!! We got to enjoy this experience over a Sunday evening apero. The owners, Ludovine and Russell, invited us over when we told them about our interest in settling in the area. They are a fascinating couple. She teaches English at a nearby secondary school and he, a former Zimbabwean, manages yachts for billionaires, having earned experience as a captain for many years. Their enthusiasm for the area was obvious. They love the authenticity of Menton and they liked Monaco and spoke in praise of the prince. They also loved popping over the border to buy produce from Ventimiglia, the nearest Italian town, and to eat at places like Pasta y Basta. But they acknowledged the difficulty of finding the type of house we’d like. They suggested looking for an apartment in an architecturally tasteful building set in a big garden.

View of Menton from the upper terrace of the house where we were staying

Maybe the villages just out of town would work better? We drove up into Castellar after coming across a villa for sale in the area. We encountered heavy traffic on narrow roads enroute to Boulevard Castellar. A quick but steep drive brought us to the sleepy medieval village. What an astonishing change in atmosphere! We strolled up and down the narrow cobbled lanes, but experienced no heart fluttering. The few “traditional” locals we encountered didn’t help. 

Inland, above the A8, the terrain is steeper. The villages of L’Escaréne and Lucéram lie in this rugged, scenic area. As we strolled into these villages we imagined what it would be like to live here, so close to Menton yet so different in character. Popular hiking trails into the mountains were accessed from up here on the mountain flank. Winter would be noticeably chillier than closer to the water. Daryl had singled out a house for sale in L’Escaréne which he found on one of the websites he obsessively scrutinizes. With the aid of Google Earth he was able to locate it. We walked up to the house as far as we could. He liked its appearance and the trees around it and the plot size. I knew the area couldn’t work for me.

One of many gardens in Menton City Center

Menton kept growing on us. So much to like about this town. Like food shopping, which was always a joyful experience. At the covered market, an attractive historic building in the Old Town, Italy’s proximity had a heavy influence. Here we found heirloom summer squashes, the creamiest fresh mozzarella made from buffalo milk, zucchini blossoms, mixed olives marinated in fragrant herbs, unusual tomatoes, fennel bulbs, ripe goat cheeses, and unpackaged fresh pasta. In the Borrego neighborhood where we were staying there were excellent bakeries and small produce markets. Despite this, many locals preferred shopping in Ventimiglia, which I found amusing and appealing. Imagine that! Nipping into Italy once a week to buy your fruit and vegetables!

Dining on the garden terrace of the Studio Apartment

Every restaurant meal in Menton turned out to be a success. A Lebanese restaurant on the waterfront served us a delicious vegetarian platter of hot and cold mezzes. The blend of flavors, textures and presentation pointed to an establishment that cared about quality. That might have explained why it was such a busy restaurant. Another satisfying meal we enjoyed was at the Menton Casino of all places. We took advantage of their 3 course vegetarian special, including a drink for €25 per person! Turned out to be the deal of the century. The restaurant terrace overlooked the Med and in that amazing setting, with the temperature just perfect, we were served apérol spritz, a starter of eggplant parmesan, ravioli and gnocchi for mains, and a tiramisu for dessert. Superbe! A full moon had risen as we sauntered back along the promenade to our apartment. We both were aware of how wonderful it was to be able to just step out your door and walk to such an experience. 

On our last night in Menton we returned to the pizzeria in Borrego that we’d gone to on our first night. We ordered the same meal and loved it just as much. Surely we’d be back as locals in the near future? Our home meals were delightful too, because of how easy it was to find the makings of a tasty home cooked meal. In early June white asparagus was still in season. Protein sources like white beans, chickpeas and lentils were conveniently available in jars, all cooked and ready to add to salads. We sampled a variety of wines from a wine store. The warm weather dictated Rosé, but we also tried out a full-bodied 2016 Bordeaux which took us 3 days to finish and tasted best on the third day. The view from the outside table of our vacation apartment was a panorama of the sea and coastline. We had all the ingredients for satisfying meals.

Coastal Path around Cap Martin

One of Menton’s delights is the paved coastal path that continues for miles and miles. Every day we walked a section of it. A few times we parked at the southernmost point of Cap Martin and walked toward Monaco. In the mornings much of the path was in shade. We always encountered a lot of joggers and dog walkers. The coast on the Monaco side was wilder, more breathtaking. I imagined starting each new day on this promenade, drinking in the beauty while keeping fit.

Cap Matrin

Menton is well connected by frequent trains and buses. Within town a free shuttle makes a loop around major destinations. Monaco is a quick train ride away and midway to Nice. Ventimiglia is a short train ride away and further on is San Remo, a small Italian resort town with decent restaurants. On the window of an Immobiliére we saw a house for sale in the Garavan neighborhood, an upmarket area. We drove up to the neighborhood which lies a couple miles above the town center. We parked and strolled up Garavan Boulevard. What breathtaking sea views! The houses were at street level and easily accessed, but the back gardens dropped steeply. A house here could work, but neither of us felt a rush of enthusiasm for the area. I was put off by the thought of either driving or hopping on a bus to get into the city center. 

After a few days it became obvious that if we really wanted to live in Menton we’d have to live in an apartment. It was the last thing we’d had in mind for our France retirement home. And then a radical thought hit us. What if we got two places? An upmarket apartment in Menton – one in an attractive building surrounded by park-like gardens and equipped with pool, jacuzzi and sauna - and a house somewhere further away, inland, with all the features Daryl dreams of. We’d spend roughly equal amounts of time in each place.

Menton's Old Town

And so we started to explore that idea. Apartments ranged widely in quality and price. We’d choose a building that had character and charm. It had to be away from a busy road. Those weren’t easy to find in Menton. We asked an agent – who turned out to be a woman who grew up in Mexico - to show us an apartment in Carnoles, a neighborhood sandwiched between Menton and Roquebrune Cap Martin. This was specifically for information. We hated the apartment instantly. The building was ugly. Though it was on a quiet road, near beach and shopping, the neighborhood was very built up. The apartment itself was badly in need of renovation and much too small for us. At €450k it was definitely overpriced. 

We checked out a house in Carnoles we’d seen advertised online. The address wasn’t provided, but Daryl’s become adept at sleuthing out addresses with the help of Google Earth. I felt excited when I saw the very cute, somewhat traditional house on a flat piece of land with a nice sized garden and a hedge around it for privacy. The perimeter roads were quiet, and bakeries and services were an easy walk away. At €1.5K Daryl felt it was overpriced for a place that didn’t check a lot of his boxes on his list of criteria. For me, this could have been the end of our search! 

Meandering into Roquebrune Cap Martin I noticed how much more appealing this small town was compared to Menton. There were more green spaces and the houses were more spaced out on fairly flat plots. It clearly connoted a more exclusive ambience. Apartment buildings were beautifully designed. Sandwiched between Menton and Monaco, it felt sophisticated but tranquil. This was where I wanted to live. Daryl was just as enthusiastic. We’d driven to the old town of Roquebrune on the previous day which oozed medieval charm. Also, because it was high up, the views of the sea and surroundings were magnificent. We wouldn’t choose to live near the medieval village, but down near the water the area was a dream location.

Park with Ancient Olive Grove

We studied the window posters of estate agent offices in the area. An apartment on a street called Virginie Herriet excited us. We hopped over to the building complex, which looked stunning from the outside. An elegant two storey structure surrounded by landscaped grounds, equipped with a pool and tennis court. It was close to Cap Martin Park, a big green area with groves of ancient olive trees. It was also a short walk to the coastal path we loved. The beach and train station were a quick walk away. A heart fluttering moment for both of us! 

We contacted the agent and arranged for a viewing. A young, enthusiastic man, happy to speak English, showed us two apartments in that building. They were both upmarket, with expensive flooring and high quality finishings. Most remarkable were the views of sea, mountains and Monaco from most of the windows and the terrace. But both 2 bedroom apartments felt too small for us. Also, we noticed peeling paint on walls of both units, pointing to a structural issue with the building. Maybe not a dealbreaker if that could be addressed. But, we had done more research and knew that nearby there were other upmarket apartment buildings. 

We were now equipped with an important piece of information. We’d have to consider a budget of close to a €1 million for a space that we’d be happy with. We told the agent what we didn’t like about the apartments and shared with him our budget and criteria. Then Daryl blabbed to him that we may be buying 2 homes! We left Menton with that idea. We felt sure we’d be back. So much tourist stuff we hadn’t done. Such as hopping on a train and checking out the famous Italian restaurant called Pasta y Basta in Ventimiglia that everyone raved about. 

To summarize: We love Menton. Roquebrune Cap Martin seems like the ideal place to live. We’d be able to walk to shops, to the coastal path, the beach, and the train station. We could walk into Monaco and Menton, two cities with lots of entertainment. Nice would be within easy access by train. However, a house and garden of the size that we’d like, would be out of our price range. An apartment is the only possibility here.  

Aloha! Hawaii - December 2021

We arrived in Hawaii on a sunny evening on December 2, with the temperature in the lower 80's and humidity at a stifling level. Our Santa Barbara friend, Janette, who was also on the island (she grew up here), chauffeured us from the airport to our elegant studio apartment in the heart of residential Kailua. She handed us a bag of luscious local fruit - mangoes, papayas and bananas -the special variety that are thick and short called apple bananas. The tropics in midwinter! Plumeria scented air, swaying palms, bright flowers of ginger plants in the garden at our apartment's entrance - my brain instantly fell into vacation mode.

Kailua Beach at Sunrise

We awoke at sunrise on our first morning and marched through the elegant neighborhood down to Kailua Beach. The sand, powdery and white and the water, a thrilling turquoise, gave me goosebumps. Especially because the volcanic landscape around the crescent shaped beach was unspoiled. Here, on the windward coast of Oahu there were no high rise resorts. Beyond the reef we could see huge waves breaking over the wall of coral. At this early hour the air temperature was perfect. We removed our sandals, feet sinking into soft sand, a sensation that would be worth paying money for. Many locals were on the beach walking their dogs, their friendly smiles and greetings offering a reassurance of a blissful last phase of our time away from home.

We acquired Holo cards and hopped on a bus to Honolulu on our first Saturday. We rode through the Pali Pass, awestruck by the scenery. Vertical volcanic flanks and deep, lush valleys. Neighborhoods tucked into valley folds, dense vegetation from ample rain, and the ocean visible even from the heart of the island. We strolled through the Chinatown part of downtown, absorbing the authentic exoticism in which we were immersed. Too bad we couldn't go wild stocking up on produce from the open market stalls. The stores were entertaining too with their unbelievable inventory of Asian culinary items. 

From Chinatown we hopped on a bus to Waikiki, where we whiled away much of the day. It was so different to what I'd experienced back in Jan 2020. A fraction of the tourists. No vivacious Asian tour groups. Quiet streets. Empty restaurants. At the International Marketplace we gawked at the enormous banyan tree and admired paintings of the island's landscape at a gallery.

 The weather changed abruptly two days after our arrival. An epic storm system rolled over the archipelago. Rain pelted down for days. Hawaii was no paradise as gusty winds, cool temperatures, a rough ocean and power losses greeted us. The governor issued a warning about high bacteria levels in the ocean making it unsafe to go into the water. Due to flood watches, fallen palm fronds, tree limbs, etc we were stuck indoors. The two beaches near us - Kailua Beach and Lanikai Beach - have a reputation for being the prettiest ones on Oahu. The sand is white, powdery, soft and the water normally turquoise and calm. But during and after the storms that had made national news, the water turned brown and rough. 

Car rental in these pandemic times had become a challenge. Agencies faced a dual hardship, first due to a lack of business when nobody was traveling in 2020 and then, when travel resumed in early 2021, they had to deal with a greatly reduced inventory due to fewer cars manufactured at factories. When we looked into car rental for our Hawaii trip the prices that came up were shocking. Then, through the Kayak website, we discovered Turo, an online car rental agency where individuals rent out their private cars at budget rates. While in Kailua we rented a car multiple times from private individuals who lived near our Airbnb apartment.

On our first driving excursion, when the sky finally had more blue than grey, we explored the southern part of Oahu. On the Makapuu Lighthouse trail - incredibly popular on a Saturday morning - we trudged up the steep incline for stupendous views. Continuing south, Koko Head, the highest peak on the island, dominated the landscape. We stopped at Sandy Beach to wash off the mud that stuck to our shoes from the hike. After a rugged coastal stretch we arrived at the KCC farmers market at the foot of Diamond Head. 

Koko Head Crater

We stocked up on local produce - tropical fruits, okra, eggplant and green beans - before continuing west, through Honolulu and onto the Pali highway back to Kailua.

On another day we drove on the impressive H3 highway which took us through a stunning tunnel. Then we looped up to the North Shore, hung out at the peaceful Haleiwa Beach Park, continued on to Sunset Beach for a stroll and to check out the famous towering waves, and made one more stop at Turtle Bay Resort. A spectacular setting for the lone 5 star resort at this untamed part of the island. Though the ocean here was rough in the winter months, there were pools created by reefs that were perfect for swimming. The lobby area of the resort was huge with inviting lounge areas, a bar and a café, all facing the ocean.

Heading east to the windward side on the north shore coastal road - the Kamehameha Highway - the scenery was constantly entertaining. Calm bays fringed by mangrove swamps gave way to rough ocean. We drove past shrimp trucks, fruit stands, small towns, and parks.

North Shore, Oahu

A week later we were back at Turtle Bay Resort to dine at the upmarket restaurant owned by Roy Yamaguchi, Hawaii’s most well-known chef. Its location, right on the beach, guaranteed an experience to savor. We arrived in the middle of the afternoon to enjoy the public park and beaches adjacent to the resort. Just before dinner we strolled through the landscaped section of the resort. A bench on a point begged to be sat on. We gazed at the vast expanse of choppy blue water below us. Suddenly a humpback whale breached. A spellbinding moment. Seconds later it emerged from the water again. And again.

Maitai at Turtle Bay

As we settled down at our dinner table the sun was setting and the ocean took on hues that made you wish time would stand still. We sipped Mai Tai's because such a view deserved the island's famous cocktail. We didn’t love the Japanese inspired set vegetarian meal, but it was a pretty indulgent experience, and a wonderful conclusion to a perfect day. 

The memory of that outing lingered and on Christmas Day we returned to Turtle Bay where the variety of ways to while away time ensured a great day. We spent a fair amount of time just sitting on our beach chairs eating, reading and watching the surf. The air temperature was beautifully mild. After lunch we went on a gentle hike, following the trail along the coast, to the northernmost point of Oahu. From here we headed inland, into a pine forest before looping back to the coast. Late afternoon we went into the natural pool for a swim. By then the air temperature had dropped to the point that we were chilled in the water. until we got home and under a hot shower!

On the weekend after Christmas we drove to the westernmost part of the north shore and hiked the Ka'ena Point trail. Because of the intense heat that guaranteed a migraine for me we couldn't do the full trail. Most disappointing. However, every time we looked at the ocean we saw whales in action. Such a joy! The scenery, too, was just so stunning. 

On the drive back to Kailua from Ka'ena we had a memorable meal experience at a vegetarian Indian restaurant called Maharaja's in a funky town just past the Dole Plantation. It was a humble, informal place, buffet style, allowing for choice and quantity and you paid by weight. Though they'd run out of their best items when we had arrived at 6:00, the food was delicious - flavorful, but not hot. The owner told us the chef was Bengali. "Better to come at lunch time when everything is still fresh and plentiful," she advised.

We enjoyed this authentic, non-tourist piece of the island.

While weekends were for excursions around the island, on weekdays we spent much of the day in the apartment engaged in our individual projects. I did a lot of reading. I went on a Damon Galgut kick after reading The Promise for which the author had recently won the Booker Prize. I admired his writing style. Also, his post-apartheid themes and South African settings were of particular interest to me. 

Lanikai Beach

Late afternoon we donned bathing suits and strolled to Kailua Beach most days. Sometimes we went further - to Lanikai Beach which was always much calmer. Even though we were on these beaches every day we were always struck by the overwhelming beauty. Early in December the afternoons were blustery and windsurfers made for a colorful sight on the water. Later in the month, the weather stabilized, the water grew calmer and the beaches became quite crowded. Much of the beach was in shade at that time of day, allowing for enjoyable long walks which ended in a refreshing dip in the calm water. On our walk back to the apartment the Pali would take on compelling shades as the sun disappeared.

Sunset from a fine Italian Restaurant near Waikiki Beach

A month of immersion in such intense natural beauty was truly a privilege. Especially during a pandemic.

Omicron

Covid news all December was dominated by the Omicron variant. One scientist compared the pandemic to a game of Snakes and Ladders. With the Delta variant we landed on a snake and had to go back in our progress. In early December nobody could tell what square Omicron landed on.

For the first half of December 2021 we anxiously observed what the new "scariant" was unleashing in South Africa. Their positivity rate hit 34%. Their daily case numbers doubled every 3 days, though the reported counts didn't reflect reality. Infectious diseases experts interviewed on South African news stations compared the surge to a tornado sweeping across the country. A significant percentage of the population were either asymptomatic or experienced mild symptoms and never bothered to get tested. Apart from urging mask wearing and avoiding crowded indoor spaces, no restrictions were imposed by the government. The country's health experts projected hope as they observed a different landscape to previous variant driven surges. Hospitalizations were low, symptoms were mild, ICU's weren't in demand. Their initial assessments were holding true. The experts pointed to high seroprevalence in the population to explain the phenomenon. Over 70% of South Africans had been previously infected by the coronavirus. A third of the population was fully vaccinated. 

In mid-December when South Africa reached its omicron peak, the variant had penetrated every country in the world, despite travel bans to southern African countries. Europe was in the grips of a winter Delta spike. In the US covid cases were rising too, driven by the Delta variant. Once omicron entered the scene everyone held their breath. In South Africa delta was pretty much nonexistent. As Christmas approached and South Africa began a steep descent in covid numbers, it became clear that omicron would wipe out delta. Meanwhile, hospitals were still treating patients sickened by the delta variant. Exasperatingly, everyone could be infected by the new version of the coronavirus. 

By early January much of the world was in the grips of omicron. Even Australia was struggling with eye-popping new daily cases. France, Italy and the UK were reporting over 200,000 new daily cases. The US breached a million new daily cases. The consequences were different in this wave. Now there was a shortage of personnel everywhere - in health care settings, services, all industries. Airlines had to cancel flights due to the large number of covid infected crew. Broadway shows were cancelled. Stores endured supply shortages. Hospitals were short staffed. Nevertheless, life appeared normal. Lockdowns and stay at home orders belonged to 2020. Government intervention was to urge vaccination, masking, testing when symptomatic, promising better supplies of rapid home test kits and beefing up hospital resources.

Despite the heavy prevalence of the disease we were undoubtedly in a new stage of the pandemic. Everyone felt sure the January crisis would be short-lived. South Africa's 4th wave was described by a heath official as an "ice-pick". Other countries hoped for the same. We kept hearing about endemicity as the pandemic's end game. And Omicron, a hyper transmissible variant, was perhaps a gift, that hastened the process. In the game of Snakes and Ladders, we may have landed on a ladder!

Fall in Berkeley and the Pandemic Persists

Berkeley Fall 2021 (September 1 - November 30)

We arrived in Berkeley right when the summer surge of Delta driven Covid infections had peaked statewide and nationally. It led to a gloomy start. Shattuck Street looked depressing. Stores were open but only a few carefully masked people were in sight. The mentally unwell homeless folks staked out spaces outside the more visited places. The Gourmet Ghetto blocks looked ghostly. Many restaurants, including the famous Chez Panisse, were closed to indoor dining but open for take-out.

Adding to this far from bright welcome, our Airbnb apartment was a bit of a disappointment. A small, over furnished space, with a dated, tired interior in a shabby building. Not much light came through so the interior was dull and chilly. We loved the location, though, on Virginia Street near Euclid Avenue. With the university fully open we were surrounded by the energy of students and faculty. There was a lot of natural beauty around us too such as the mature redwoods outside our kitchen and all over the neighborhood.

Remarkably, the weather during our 3 month Sabbatical in this city was consistently delightful. Every morning we woke up to a blue sky and mild temperatures. In early fall we went on daily after dinner walks. It gave us a better appreciation of the remarkable combination of urbanness and natural beauty that makes Berkeley such a special city. From our apartment we headed up into the hills using the many well maintained steps strategically located throughout the neighborhood. Tilden Park formed the uppermost border. 

Rose Garden on Euclid Street, Berkeley

Looping back down we always ended up at the Rose Garden, which was a short distance from our home and a popular spot for views of the Golden Gate Bridge and sunset.

Sunset from Rose Garden, Berkeley

The Golden Gate Bridge and the deep blue of the bay were visible from many places on our walking routes through parks and residential streets. The fire trail above the UC Berkeley campus became my favorite. It was steep, almost vertical, guaranteeing a strenuous workout. Bay and bridge views from the viewpoint near the Lawrence Hall of Science were jaw dropping. 

We always encountered deer on these walks through the month of September. They seemed very comfortable near people and in gardens. 

Deer in our neighborhood every evening in September

Weirdly, at some point in the middle of fall, we stopped seeing deer. Why? That was a mystery. Once, near campus, we saw a pair of owls in mid-flight. They tagged each other then alighted on a eucalyptus tree. What a special moment! 

Two huge storms brought on by atmospheric rivers in late October transformed the parched landscape. The many redwoods around town released heavy scents. The fields around us turned emerald.

Despite the Covid atmosphere in Berkeley, there was so much to enjoy. For one thing, I felt so at home everywhere because the town was full of people with my world view and lifestyle. 

Food shopping in Berkeley was a dream. Every Saturday morning right after a breakfast of freshly baked pastries from the Cheeseboard, we headed to Berkeley Bowl where stocking up on produce for the week was entertainment rather than a chore. The staggering variety of produce at this iconic food market would inspire even the most reluctant cooks. 

Berkeley Bowl

I loved the variety of mushrooms, especially fresh, healthy shiitake. Imagine being able to find every spice, aromatic, sauce, grain, oil, condiment, bulk item, bakery item, confectionary  under one roof! Of course, it did mean that everyone else shopped there too, so that was something we had to endure. The Monterey Market was fantastic too - which, because of its neighborhood location, had a more local vibe while offering an impressive assortment of seasonal produce from local farmers.

Another favorite weekend activity was Sundays in San Francisco. We explored every part of Golden Gate Park, the marina, and trails along the bay near the bridge.

Sixteenth Avenue Steps, San Francisco

Unexpected, delightful discoveries like Sixteenth Avenue Steps showed us how little we actually knew this city that we'd visited so many times. The weather each time was incredible. Warm, hot at times, windless and cloudless. On Sundays the locals were up and about - strolling, jogging, playing with kids, picnicking, listening to live music. The absence of international tourists was very noticeable.

Shattuck Street in Berkeley gradually livened up later in the fall. More restaurants opened up for indoor dining and as covid numbers dropped people felt safer to venture out. On Friday evenings we usually celebrated the end of the week at Jupiter's. The atmosphere in their beer garden was always upbeat. An IPA and wood-fired pizza by the fountain among spirited students and locals provided a perfect bridge from work week to weekend fun.

Pizza at Jupiter's in Berkeley

The daily routine I fell into during the work week was intensely satisfying. After breakfast each day I drove to Equinox, a gym that felt like a five star experience compared to the one I go to in Goleta. At Equinox all equipment was always available and always worked. The woman's shower rooms sparkled. High end toiletries and plush, white towels were provided. After a workout followed by a shower I always felt enthusiastic about all that I needed to do the rest of the day. After lunch at home I grabbed my laptop and headed to the main library on campus. On my short walk I past clusters of students and UC employees at sidewalk tables eating lunch or sipping coffee. I tried different libraries on campus. Each provided the right setting for concentration. Quiet, lots of natural light, and comfortable chairs and sofas. The afternoon always disappeared too quickly. In the evening, when the days were shorter, Daryl and I would head out for a quick stroll to catch the sunset.

A Weekend in the Mountains

In mid-November we spent a weekend in the mountains with Santa Barbara friends who own a cabin in Soda Springs. All the ingredients for a magical time were present. Pristine air suffused with pine scents, sunshine, mild temperature, shimmering snow alongside patches of green, rushing water, a peaceful lake, breathtaking views of snow capped jagged peaks of the Sierras, the delightful company of dear friends, and hearty food. At about 7000 feet altitude there was snow on the ground around their cabin. The weather systems called atmospheric rivers of late October and early November dumped snow at that elevation. Luckily for us, the weekend was unseasonably mild so we had the benefit of enjoying a sort of winter landscape in warmish weather. On a 6 mile hike along a creek and through heavily scented pine forest we caught views of the Sierras topped with light snow. Emerald grass poked through the ground that had been parched much of the year. What a heartening sight.

Snow in November in Soda Springs

Covid Status in November

All through fall the Delta variant of the coronavirus kept us anxious. Even though the infection rate in the Bay Area was low the stories of breakthrough infections and waning vaccine effectiveness kept us fuzzy about whether the pandemic would ever end. In late fall infection rate jumped in the USA and Europe. South Africa was looking good with under a thousand new daily cases. Deaths dropped to double digits. 

Health experts expressed optimism about the future. A winter surge was expected, but not a big one. Studies from Israel showed booster shots to be effective in preventing breakthroughs and hospitalizations. Also, new treatments - antiviral pills from Pfizer and Merck - were expected to be available, further reducing hospitalizations and deaths. The SARS-CoV2 virus outsmarted experts often enough that nobody dared to predict when the pandemic would end.

Then, the day after Thanksgiving, a new chapter of Covid began. It was a pleasant, sunny day in Berkeley and after a couple hours of reading on the patio of Cafenated, I returned to our apartment and opened up the New York Times on my iPad. That was when I learned about the panic around a newly discovered variant of the SARS-CoV2 virus in South Africa. The many mutations - the most ever seen thus far - had alarm bells ringing all over the world. Vaccine evasion was the urgent concern. My heart sank. South Africa had been making remarkable progress since coming down from their winter surge. Their new daily infections deaths were at an all time low. And suddenly, just this past week, the situation switched. New case numbers doubled every day.

The new variant, named Omicron by WHO, dominated the news in the days and weeks that followed. The USA, much of Europe, the UK, and a host of other countries imposed travel restrictions on South Africa.  This was devastating to a country that was preparing for the return of international tourists during their festive season. Their infectious disease experts, highly qualified and eminently well-trained, felt they were being punished for being transparent. 

Of course, since the Omicron variant was brand new, predictions couldn't be made. We'd had so many bad twists and turns with this virus. Was 2022 going to be yet another pandemic year?The entire world let out a mega scream. Pfizer and Moderna quickly announced immediate work on lab tests.

Days after the news of Omicron broke, amid the gloomy speculations, there was one piece of promising news from a South African clinician, Dr. Coetzee, who first detected a change in her Covid patients and suspected a new variant had emerged. Everyone who came into her clinic presented with mild symptoms, mainly severe fatigue and headaches. Her guess was that this variant, unlike Delta, may not lead to severe illness.

On that somewhat optimistic note we packed up our things and got prepared for a month in Hawaii.

Pacific Northwest Road Trip August 2021

When Daryl and I planned a one month road trip - our first vacation since March 2020 - all signs pointed to a summer of freedom and joy. But two weeks before our departure the Delta variant went on a rampage, yanking us out of our post-pandemic complacency. Luckily, our vacation was centered around the outdoors and we were able to accomplish much of what we set out to do.

From our Goleta, California home we headed north, hugging the coast as much as possible up to the Olympic Peninsula in the state of Washington. From there we turned southward, heading inland, first to Mount Rainier National Park, then to the Columbia River Gorge, Mount Hood, the Central Cascades of Oregon, west to Eugene, south past Mt. Shasta and ended in Berkeley, California.

Driving up Highway 1 on a cloudless summer day, our spirits soared. It was a Sunday and everywhere we stopped - Shell Beach for a picnic lunch, Morro Bay's waterfront to smile at otters, the San Simeon pier for a stroll - vivacious families were out and about. Pandemic? What pandemic? On our first night we decamped at the official start of the Big Sur Coast, a headland occupied by the overpriced Ragged Point Inn. From a strategically situated bench on their landscaped grounds we gawked at rugged cliffs and churning ocean over a picnic dinner which included a delicate artichoke tart (also overpriced) from the onsite restaurant. 

The next morning we negotiated steep curves on an improbable highway carved into California's Coastal Range. Thankfully, the large number of pull-outs enabled full enjoyment of the jaw dropping views from dizzying heights. Big Sur was sizzling in summer heat when we made our first stop at the Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park. California Condors circled overhead, offering a ceremonial welcome. 

Waterfall at Pfeiffer Burns State Park, Big Sur

The trail was only partially open due to recent fire destruction, but we managed to get to a viewpoint from where we could see the highlight - a waterfall, barely visible and overshadowed by the shapely cliffs and water hues. On a previous visit years ago the waterfall was a mesmerizing spectacle as it spewed out a great volume of crystal clear water. The effects of years of drought were hard to ignore right from the start of our trip.

Two Big Sur favorites had to be sacrificed. Nepenthe - due to an endless line of cars at the entrance - and the Big Sur Bakery - closed on a Monday. But a picnic lunch (burritos) followed by a leisurely stroll on Pfeiffer Beach under a cloudless sky amply compensated for that. Quite a lot of people were enjoying this picturesque beach, which felt a bit strange. A scene from normal times. Covid numbers were on the rise. Was it just a tease before everyone retreated again?

Estuary near Point Reyes

We had a full morning to appreciate Marin County's beguiling coast when, at sunrise on a Tuesday morning we drove in dense fog to beat the traffic across the Golden Gate Bridge. We'd spent the night in Half Moon Bay, where we had dined at an excellent Indian restaurant after a vigorous beach walk. Bridge and city skyline views were well hidden as we wound up the coastal mountain on the north side of the bridge and descended down to Stinson Beach. What a delightful place with its posh cafes and stores bordering an inviting park! We couldn't have asked for a better breakfast stop to enjoy our first cafe croissant and coffee of our vacation. 

Later in the morning when we stopped at Point Reyes for lunch supplies we were fully reminded of the pandemic. Starting that morning masks were again mandated to enter all public indoor spaces in 5 Bay area counties. This was California's most vaccinated county, populated by a largely upper middle class progressive demographic. No wonder it was so easy to find rustic bread, local cheeses and lush salad produce for a picnic lunch!

Humboldt State Park

It's shameful that it's taken us this long to visit the famous redwood forests in Humboldt County and north toward the state border. There was never any doubt that we'd love the experience. That was why we decided to go for full immersion and camp in the forest for three nights. Before arriving at our first campground I was apprehensive about evening weather. We'd just spent a couple days with friends near Mendocino where a persistent chill had numbed my toes and fingertips the whole time. Would the temperature and fog be worse further north? Not at all. We were blessed with bright sunshine, warm days, warm evenings everyday. Days on trails that wove around ancient giants followed by evenings around the campfire felt cleansing, therapeutic, restorative. The drive up the Avenue of Giants through Humboldt State Park - a narrow stretch flanked by towering beauties - was an experience that will stay with me forever. 

To get to Del Norte State Park from Humboldt, Daryl chose the more adventurous route via Mattole Road. We stopped a few times along the first third of what was more a lane than a road to hike through groves of ancient, majestic redwoods. About a third of the way along the road the forest receded. The surface, now unpaved, became increasingly rougher. I held my breath as we climbed up a windy bit, anxious about the miles ahead. How much worse was it going to get? What a joyful moment when we finally saw the ocean and merged with Highway 101!

Smith River at Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park

Warm, sunny weather in the northernmost part of coastal California surprised me. Thankfully, the forest shade ensured perfect hiking conditions. On our last day in the redwoods as we dodged hikers on a popular trail we unexpectedly emerged onto an open area with full sun exposure. A serenely gorgeous river - the Smith River - came into view and a lot of foot traffic headed toward a gravelly bank. Daryl was not going to pass up the opportunity to cool off in that clear water. Quite the symbolic way to bid adieu to this unique bit of our planet.

Oregon

Winchester Bay, Oregon Coast

A saunter on the untamed beaches of the Pacific Northwest guarantees a dopamine spike. Forest clad mountains meet sandy beaches. Driftwood piles mimic elaborate works of sculpture. Rocky beaches at low tide expose a great variety of sea creatures. Crossing into Oregon the visual splendor is magnified. Craggy headlands. River mouths. Lush forests. And picnic areas and trails to admire the scenery are plentiful, accessible and free. So much more egalitarian than California where you have to pay a $10 fee to enter beaches which form part of the state park system. In southern Oregon we climbed up dunes on wide sandy beaches, then meandered over toward the river bank via a forest. The coast road was busy, many camper vans and RV's, and the entire stretch was pretty built up with a chain of towns - each uniquely cute - merging into each other all the way up to the Columbia River mouth.

Oregon beach close to Washington border

Closer to Washington the beaches were rockier. On a deserted beach near Seaside, Oregon we were astounded by the sea creatures on a creviced rock. We desperately needed a mood boost because we had just spent a disappointing night at an overpriced awful motel in Garibaldi, a modest fishing village north of Tillamook. Our timing was perfect. The tide was out and there was so much to see. The many bright red starfish stole the show and filled us with joy.

Bridge at Astoria

Before leaving Oregon we pulled into a viewpoint to admire the stunning bridge at the mouth of the Columbia River. Astoria, on the river bank, looked attractive, and we were tempted to explore lunch options there, but Covid numbers in the state were shooting up. We drove on, across that impressive bridge, and a short while later arrived at a picnic area with water views. A peaceful, safe place to enjoy a lunch of bread, cheese, salad and fruit.

Washington

Sunset from Ocean Crest Resort, Moclips, WA

Ocean Crest Resort at Moclips is not one of those pretentious five star places, but our two nights here felt indulgent and luxurious. Perched up on a vertiginous cliff overlooking the Pacific, this was a place to engage full vacation mode. The pool, jacuzzi, sauna, massage rooms and exercise rooms were inside a giant wooden structure which oozed Scandinavian charm. We could easily have spent our entire two days in the pool and sauna. But the beach below the resort, reached by descending a wooden staircase, was so irresistible. And it went on for miles in each direction. All around the hotel grounds there were seating areas to enjoy sublime sea views, which climaxed at sunset. This far north the spectacle occurred close to 9:00 PM in early August.

 For evening meals we drove to the planned upmarket community of Seabrook, two miles south of Ocean Crest Resort. Over an unforgettable wood-fired pizza on one evening and an exquisite Mexican meal the next, the town's character revealed itself. I was reminded of a typical European small town in summer with vibrant cafes and locals hanging out in public spaces. Seabrook was a 21st century version of such a place. No doubt a wealthy, urban set lived in the stately two storeyed homes that fringed the downtown core.

Lake Quinault

A week in the Olympic National Park was next on our itinerary. Research, which included advice from friends, helped us create a sensible plan that ensured sufficient time for the main attractions. It was a short drive from Moclips to Lake Quinault, a serene lake framed by forested hills. We captured this photo from the lawn of the historic Lake Quinault Lodge. In the temperate rainforest nearby we followed a one mile loop which served as a primer to the park's old growth firs, cedars and hemlocks. Ferns, mosses and a gurgling creek enhanced an already enjoyable walk. 

The Pacific Northwest was gripped by a heat dome on that day- the second one this summer. As a result, the day's highlight, the Hoh Rainforest, was far from a typical experience.

Hoh River and the Hoh Rainforest

It was impossible to imagine the usual chill and dampness of the area as we endured tropical temperatures and humidity. Moss-covered tree trunks and vivid ferns seemed unreal. The trails were crowded, something we anticipated with dread when we had to wait a whole hour in bumper to bumper traffic at the entrance to this section of the park. The trail along the Hoh River goes on for miles and miles, providing ample opportunity to be wowed by Sitka Spruce, Douglas Fir, Red Cedar and Western Hemlock. But by late afternoon heat exhaustion hit and our day in paradise had to end. 

Intense heat lingered for days. Fortuitously, the beaches west of Forks - our base for the western part of the park- were on the schedule.

Rialto Beach near Forks, WA

Second Beach at La Push, accessed via a trail through rainforest, reminded me of the beaches in Thailand. Tall rock stacks, like the karsts of South East Asia, jut out of the water close to shore. Emerald forests come right down to a wide, sandy beach. But it was Rialto Beach that stole my heart. Here, the rock stacks reminded me of mythical characters. Walking on the rocky beach felt like a foot massage. I picked up smooth, polished rocks, admired their colors and shapes and hated having to toss them back.

Sol Duc Waterfalls

Between the unremarkable, logging town of Forks and our next base, Port Angeles, lies the seductive Sol Duc Valley. Here, we started the day at the sumptuous hot springs resort. Is there anything more pleasurable than soaking in heavenly pools fed by natural mineral springs in a blissful setting of cliff walls and forests? 

When our hour was up (Covid limitations) and we switched from swimsuits to hiking clothes it took some effort to summon the energy for a hike. Luckily the ascent was gentle and the reward - a trio of thundering waterfalls - most satisfying.

Crescent Lake

By the time we arrived at Crescent Lake - after the hotsprings, waterfalls hike, and picnic lunch which included big slices of Marionberry pie - we were ready for a siesta. We set up our outdoor folding chairs in the shade near the shore and read and napped through the afternoon.

Hurricane Ridge, Olympic National Park

Port Angeles, a short drive from Lake Crescent, is sandwiched between the San Juan Strait and a jaw-dropping mountain range. Despite its picturesque location we found the town center surprisingly dull, except for the part near the ferry terminal where a cluster of hip restaurants provided lively atmosphere. Even the paved promenade along the waterfront was ghostly. 

As a base to the mountains of the Olympic National Park, Port Angeles was perfect. The Hurricane Ridge Visitor Center was just a short drive out of town. Surely the most spectacular setting of any visitor center? It was the view of Mount Olympus, the highest peak, that drew gasps from everyone around us. At the same time, when I turned my gaze to the patches of snow capping the ridge my heart sank at the stark reminder of climate change. A decade ago, even in midsummer, Hurricane Ridge would've been significantly whiter. 

The steep, mostly paved trail that wound up to a summit was full of foot traffic. With travel options so limited, the national parks drew droves of domestic visitors this summer. Somewhere along the trail my phone beeped with a message welcoming me to Canada! Indeed, when we reached the top we could see Vancouver Island in the distance. The view of Port Angeles was breathtaking, but it was the saw-toothed mountain ridge, sharply clear, that commanded my gaze for a good long while. When we returned to the visitor's center I was eager for more. We checked out the shorter trails that went up in different directions and the views were equally arresting. On the drive back to town in the middle of the afternoon I was amazed to see thick clouds racing across the valley and I realized how lucky we had been. 

At dinner time we were ready for a high carb feast. Barhop Brewing near the ferry terminal provided a satisfying trifecta of flavorful IPA, "artisan" pizza and lively atmosphere on a terrace with a waterfront view.

After an unforgettable week at the Olympic National Park we headed further north to Puget Sound.  

Cornish Pasties, Port Townsend, WA

During our 2 full days in atmospheric Port Townsend we entertained thoughts of retiring here. Who could blame us? Its geography (on a sound) plus its attractive colonial style architecture bestow an immediate "wow" factor. We stayed at The Water Street Hotel which is in a historic building, placing us in the heart of the action. After breakfast each morning we strolled past the harbor, hopped down to the beach - the tide was low each time - and sauntered toward the Point Wilson Lighthouse. Blue sky, the hum of locals and visitors engaged in beach and park activities, sea birds circling and swooping, the wet sand soft and nurturing. We were infatuated. 

 The variety of upmarket restaurants strengthened our impressions. Where else in America can you find "made from scratch" vegetarian Cornish pasties stuffed with vindaloo curry? Small parks with picnic tables all over town ensured blissful settings at meal times. (Due to growing Covid numbers we opted for take-out over dining at restaurants.) 

On the day we were leaving town we popped into the food co-op for meal supplies. Three nights in a cabin with a kitchen at Mount Rainier's southern entrance awaited. We were excited about home prepared meals for the first time in weeks. And when we found a heartening variety of high quality seasonal produce as well as an incredibly well-stocked deli at the co-op our affection for Port Townsend deepened. We left town wondering whether we'd return as new residents or never see it again.

We headed south. The start of our journey back to California. We crossed attractive bridges into and out of Bainbridge Island as we made our way west to the range of mountains called the Cascades.

Mount Rainier

Drizzle and cloud cover on our two days at Mount Rainier National Park did not deprive us of exhilarating hikes. On our first full day at the park, since the mountain we were here to see was well hidden in dense cloud, we settled for a forest hike that involved a long, steady climb on a trail cushioned by mulch. At the viewpoint from where Mount Rainier would be visible on a clear day, we munched a sandwich and stared into the mist. The temperature for me was ideal for hiking. In the afternoon, still full of steam, we hopped onto an easy stretch of the mostly strenuous Wonderland Trail. This 93 mile long trail encircles the mountain, and we were on a level bit near Cougar Rock Campground alongside a gushing river churning white water.

 

On our second day at the park we hiked the super popular Skyline Loop Trail from Paradise Valley for the best chance to see the king of the Cascades. The weather looked promising with less cloud cover than the previous day. An early arrival granted us a prime parking spot in a lot that was rapidly filling up with Seattle day-trippers on this August Sunday. We started our ascent on a quiet stretch through meadows brightened by wild flowers and reached Myrtle Falls. We paused here for a few minutes to absorb the beauty of the waterfall, then continued on the ascent, still puzzled at how few people we encountered. The final bit required some rock scrambling (to my dismay), but once at the summit I was dumbstruck. A shimmering white mound towered above me. I gazed at the glacier clad contours, transfixed. This moment, I knew, would be the climax of the month long road trip.When I finally became aware of the world again I was amazed to see that we were far from alone. How did all these people get there? Turned out we were doing the loop in the opposite direction. Had we done it the traditional way, the climb would have been considerably steeper - up endless steps - but Mt. Rainier would've been in our view much of the time (depending on cloud cover). Doing it in reverse made the downhill section absurdly easy, but we encountered hordes of visitors. On the drive out of the park we wondered if Seattle's proximity to this park placed it above Port Townsend as a retirement home. 

Columbia River Gorge

The route we selected for the drive south from Mt Rainier was supposed to provide close up views of Mt St. Helens and Mt Adams. But the weather that Monday morning did not co-operate. We drove in cloud, drizzle and mist, a guarantee of poor visibility much of the time. To make matters worse, as we approached a pass the paved road ended and we entered a rough, bumpy stretch. How did this happen? We'd done our research and the road had looked smooth and paved on Google maps the night before! Immense relief washed over us when the road widened into a normal two lane highway again near the Columbia River!

This mighty river originates in the Canadian Rockies and on its journey to the Pacific Ocean is fed by numerous rivers. At the point where we crossed into Oregon, the Columbia River cut through a gorge in the Cascades. We intended to camp in this geologically intriguing region, but changed our plans when we saw the charmless campground at Viento State Park near busy Highway 84. We opted for a room at a pleasant motel in lively Hood River, a town which occupies arguably the best location in Oregon. 

Multnomah Falls - one of the tallest in the nation

Undoubtedly, the highlight of the Columbia River Gorge is the tall, multi-tiered Multnomah Falls. When we'd arrived at the entrance, via the historic byway, we were told we needed a ticket that had to be purchased in advance online. Due to Covid this was a way to limit numbers. After fiddling around with the online procedure on our phones without success, we were eventually let in and immediately stepped onto the steep trail to the top of the falls. Invigorating and rewarding, we relished every moment.

 

Back on the byway, an engineering marvel along a cliff wall, we made stops at the other waterfalls in the area. Each endowed with its own charm and compelled hikes to viewpoints. Past the waterfalls the road arcs and ascends up to Crown Point. From this spot we gazed at the bird's eye view of vertical cliff walls and wide, wide river visible for many miles. A heart stopping panorama that can only be fully appreciated in real life.

Mount Hood from Mirror Lake

Before leaving Hood River on a cloudless Tuesday morning we caught a great view of Mount Adams from the motel parking lot, and in the cute downtown, we acquired delicious bagels from a bustling bakery. These unexpected parting gifts left quite an impression. The town of Hood River sure had a lot going for it. Minutes after heading south on scenic Highway 35,  Mount Hood came into full view. A symmetric partially snowcapped dome proudly displayed above an agricultural plain. We drove through farmland, stopped at one of the many farm stands, bought a huge bag of freshly harvested pears (which didn't make it to California due to border regulations), and continued onward to a trailhead for our first hike of the day.

Though not as ostentatious as Mt. Rainier, Mount Hood is more accessible, with numerous hiking trails at its base. My favorite was the trail to and around Mirror Lake for its ideal combination of forest, gentle ascent, scenery and views. A night at Cooper Spur Lodge provided luxury, which included an evening hot tub soak under the stars. On a future visit we may spend a night at the Timberline Lodge for even more luxury in a historic wooden building right up the mountain. The Pacific Crest Trail goes past this lodge and we hiked a small part of it just so we could brag about it. 

Heading south to the central Cascades we encountered smoke from wildfires for the first time on this trip. The mountain peaks we hoped to have views of during the drive were completely invisible. East of the Cascades we entered high desert landscape. Now we were immersed in browns and tans, descending and ascending steep canyons until we arrived at a heavily irrigated agricultural plain. 

We stayed at an Airbnb just outside the town of Sisters, Oregon. Though the fires were a fair distance from us the sky was hazy and poor air quality lingered for two days. Luckily on our last full day in the area we woke up to a bright blue sky. We finally could see the iconic Three Sisters, a trio of volcanic cones, from our window. From the road near our Airbnb we could see Three Fingered Jack, Black Butte and Mount Washington. 

The highlight for us in the Sisters area was a hike around Suttle Lake, a clear blue lake that arose from glacial run-off. The combination of sun, perfect air temperature, pine scents and natural beauty gave us a high, and craving more, we extended our walk through a wooded trail along a creek. 

Suttle Lake, Sisters, OR

Blu Pool on the Tamolich Trail in the Central Cascades

From Sisters we drove east to Eugene over a pass to the western side of the Cascades. Between the two cities we stopped for one last big wilderness hike. On the Tamolich Trail we arrived at a truly arresting sight, a pool the color of sapphire. It was still early on a Sunday morning. In a few hours this spot would be crowded. Continuing beyond Blu Pool, we hiked beside the McKenzie River, into a delightful forest infused with earthy scents. The trail was mostly level and pretty quiet. Our road trip was coming to an end. Next on the itinerary was a city stint.

It isn't Nature!

Our LA friends welcomed us to their new home in Eugene in style. During our short stay with them they showed us their favorite walks and yet another city began to seduce us. At the end of each day, over Willamette Valley Pinot Noir and a variety of blue cheeses we chatted, laughed, complained, grouched, smiled. The past 18 months had been tough in a number of ways. But the worst was over and we had plenty to smile about.