From the Heart: Our Little Getaway

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” ~T. S. Eliot


Sometimes, thirty-six hours to unplug, change location, breathe a little, and dream a little is just enough precious time to make a difference to a soul in desperate need of a change of scenery, and something else…

Several weekends back, my husband Michael and I had put together a short and sweet little trip north for ourselves to take some time to celebrate.

We wanted to celebrate our lives by celebrating our marriage, our growth, all of our new adventures so far this year, all the new things we’ve learned, all the things we’ve overcome, and even my birthday, which just so happened to be that very same weekend.

We left very early on a Friday morning taking the route north from Los Angeles towards Cambria/San Simeon, the upper-central part of California, best known for Hearst Castle.

This was an area that I had yet to visit, and one that Michael had only briefly passed through on his way to San Fransisco many years back.

The freeways were quiet and quite peaceful as we traveled that morning after all the 4th of July hullabaloo just a couple of days prior; and though we were a bit tired and bleary-eyed from not being able to sleep much the night before, we were talkative, excited, and full of enthusiasm and curiosity to find out what our little trip would inspire and stir within us.

We both came alive again while there, both tapped into a creative place, a space that was open to experiencing and enjoying the simple things, and being inspired by them.

On our way up, we happened to stop at a place called Blackwell’s Corner.

We didn’t realize it was the last stop for actor James Dean just before his tragic death on the highway, sixty-two years ago, until we saw the news clippings and his goggles hanging there on the wall…

And that was a bit surreal.

We are both huge Dean fans, so this suddenly became quite a poignant stop for us, one that we didn’t even plan on making, nor knew was his “famous” last stop.

And because we were making our way up the same highway that he was on at the time of his accident, we also ended up passing the tiny memorial on the side of the road that marks the exact location of his accident, which one could easily miss if one didn’t know to look for it.

That little unexpected experience so early in the morning as the sun was coming up was an interesting one for us, because it caused the gravity of life and death—especially unexpected and sudden death—to sink in for us both.

So for a while we ended up turning our conversation towards how fleeting life can be, and how grateful we must be for every moment we have because we don’t know what is coming around the bend…

But things didn’t get too heavy, just a bit solemn and reflective, which is something that neither Michael nor I have ever shied away from.

Then shortly after that, as we began making our way ever closer to our destination, and the golden, wheat-like fields began to give way to more lush and green rolling hillsides with grapevines growing plentifully on them, the ocean came into view…

We rolled down our windows to deeply breathe in that wonderful salty air, and with full hearts and the innocent joy and wonder of children, hungrily took in the scenery which consisted of a jutting, ragged coastline on one side and rolling, open hills and fields on the other.

It was so very quiet and peaceful, with a car passing us only every now and then, which is something we aren’t used to on the Pacific Coast Highway here in Southern California where the traffic is notoriously abysmal.

We decided to stop for a late breakfast, as by then it was already about 10:45 am, and Michael had yet to have his first cup of coffee, and I was more than primed and ready for my second cup that morning.

Plus, we were starving!

So we stopped at a precious corner restaurant there in the town of Cambria called Linn’s, and had one of the best, friendliest, and tastiest breakfasts we could’ve hoped for.

Even the coffee was absolutely magnificent! Not old nor bitter tasting, not burned; just fresh and delicious, which is always a good sign of what’s to come.

We both had the French toast, made from a French baguette, with their special olallieberry syrup (according to Linn’s, the olallieberry is a cross between the loganberry and the youngberry, and it happens to be the primary fruit grown on their farm).

That delicious olallieberry syrup melted in our mouths and went down entirely too easily.

And so we utterly fell in love with Linn’s, and ended up eating there a total of three times during our trip, sampling something different each time.

We very quickly realized that the people in this town were so incredibly friendly, so willing to stop and talk and shoot the breeze, that it took us a second to adjust to this.

We rarely ever find this mentality in Los Angeles, were life is far too fast for such genuine interactions, and conversations often times too glib.

So this was a treat for us, and it made both Michael and I long for the small towns we spent our early lives growing up in, and some of that more friendly mentality.

We made a pact with each other that we would not only return there to Cambria again in the next couple of months, but that we would try to carve out more of these little memory-making excursions to feed our souls, our spirits, and to experience life in other places, and be nourished by it.

And because our hotel room wouldn’t be ready for us until 3pm, we drove further up the coast to Ragged Point, passing Hearst Castle and some of the famous wild zebras that still roam their vast acres along the way, growing excited for our tour of it the next day.

Ragged Point was spectacular, with amazing views of the swirling ocean and the crashing waves, and we could only imagine how haunting and wonderfully dramatic it would be in the more wintery months with the fog rolling in in the evenings and the cold sea air…

It made us long to come back again during that time of year.

And after spending some time there, snapping some photos and enjoying the fresh sea air, we drove back down towards Cambria and stopped at an old abandoned motel we found on the side of the road.

We both love places like these, as they seem to hold the “ghosts” of the old times there, and of the people who stayed as guests.

This ended up being another interesting impromptu stop, because Michael discovered an amazing location there behind the motel (which was located right on a little cliff overlooking the ocean) for us to see the famous elephant sea lions nesting and beaching there on the shore below!

We first heard their incredibly loud noises, and didn’t have a clue as to what the sound was and where it was coming from.

It sounded like incredibly loud, reverberating burping, and it was coming from them as they fought amongst themselves there on the shore while sunbathing.

What a sight to see!

We took lots of pictures and video, and I laughed a lot at their silly, echoing sounds wondering what our little dog Lola would think of them.

The rest of our day was about taking our time slowly stopping here and there, checking out little galleries in town, stopping in their quaint little shops and having authentic and genuine conversations with people. How refreshing!

We found a cute Italian restaurant where we would have our dinner later on, and got a couple of slices of homemade pie from a local bakery to take back to our room for later (which we ended up eating in bed like a couple of sneaky kids!).

We took a walk just a little before sunset on the mile-long wooden walkway that went alongside the ocean, which was a dream.

We tried to be conscious of each and every moment we had there, filling our hearts with gratitude for this little thirty-six hour getaway.

We both came alive again while there, both tapped into a creative place, a space that was open to experiencing and enjoying the simple things, and being inspired by them.

We are the types that need this, and in all transparency, we don’t do this nearly enough.

And so the next day, after our second breakfast at Linn’s, and another soul-feeding walk along the Moonstone Beach boardwalk, just a few steps from our hotel, coffee in hand…

After our long tour of Hearst Castle…

Followed by our third and final meal at Linn’s—our dinner—we hit the road to return home…

And as we drove, Michael and I shared with one another that this experience was something essential for us to do more often.

We knew that we genuinely needed more of these little getaways, even if only one or two nights here and there, to reset, recharge, and refresh.

This experience was quite a magical one, and it made a strong impression on us that this was necessary for our well being, and that we must consciously strive to make more of these experiences happen.

We made a pact with each other that we would not only return there to Cambria again in the next couple of months, but that we would try to carve out more of these little memory-making excursions to feed our souls, our spirits, and to experience life in other places and be nourished by it.

We aren’t the types who do a lot of “self care”, but we realized that we’d end up becoming depleted and ultimately empty over time if we didn’t learn how to do this.

We also realized that our joy and our enthusiasm is worth planning and setting apart some time for, and that we too are “allowed” to unplug and take some time off—not always easy.

So here’s to a wonderful (albeit entirely too short!) little adventure, one in which we packed a lifetime of memories into a thirty-six hour time frame.

Through it we learned to let go for a little bit, to unplug, and to be nourished by some of the beauty and wonder and kindness and uniqueness that life somewhere else has to offer. And it had been entirely too long since the last time we had experienced this.

After all, this makes coming home again all the sweeter, and helps bring some new flavor into everyday life again.

Here’s to creating your own little adventures…

Taste what’s good and pass it on.

Ingrid