Learning to Like LA

After departing from Berkeley Saturday morning, we arrived in Maricopa, AZ last night. Maricopa sits 16 miles south of Phoenix, and was only incorporated (as a town within Maricopa County) in 2003. Mom and Bob have a home here, built for people who are "55 and better." Mom’s in her final year as a teacher in the Columbus Public Schools, so for now they have homes in Maricopa and Grove City, OH. Twelve months from now the Grove City home will belong to someone else and they’ll live in Arizona year round.

We rented a car in Berkeley Saturday, and drove down the Pacific Coast Highway to Manhattan Beach, CA (close to LAX) for the night. This became an epic journey of thirteen hours, when we could have done it in 6 or 7 hours on Interstate 5. The reasons: we allowed ourselves to be diverted, and the PCH is awfully curvy (slow) between Monterey and San Luis Obispo. But the views were magnificent, and this was the first (perhaps only) time we’ve stopped to buy kiwis at a U-pick farm. At one of the most remote stretches on the PCH, gas was available for $4.45/gallon. We persevered, and eventually paid the comparatively thrifty price of $3.79.

Yesterday morning we ventured out to Santa Monica—away from Phoenix—and ate breakfast at the Santa Monica Farmers Market. This is a zero-waste market; we dumped the appropriate items in the compost bin, and it felt like we hadn’t left the Bay Area. After breakfast we caught our last glimpse of ocean before rolling onto I-10 (it starts in Santa Monica) and heading east. Lunch was a dry chicken sandwich at a Depression era restaurant in Desert Center, CA.

As we left LA I finally admitted to myself that I like “So Cal.” This feels like a sin for someone who currently lives in northern California and previously lived in Manhattan. But it’s true; there’s a certain charm in the way everything laces together, and since we’ve yet to be stuck in horrible traffic that lacing makes sense. Besides, where else can you buy coffee at a place named Urth Caffe? Or eat breakfast at the Literati Café on Wilshire Boulevard the day after a delicious lunch at Cafe Santorini in Old Town Pasadena? We did the latter on a weekend trip to LA in early November.

Now we’re here in the Phoenix area, which has its own charms (Scottsdale and Tempe). For the next few days we’ll be a bit south of that action, though, close to where John Wayne used to own a big cattle ranch. This is the old cowboy West, and it’s just fine for a visit. But for me the California coast has a more lasting appeal.

Comments

[MarkD]

Being from Boston, I too once had a bias against LA. My eastern establishment upbringing wouldn't allow me to admit that anything good could from a place as brash as LA. The first couple trips I made to LA only reinforced my biases. But as I got to know the city, as I learned it neighborhoods and drove its highways - I fell in love with it. Now that I live abroad, I can't say that I really miss the east coast. But I do miss the Latin beat of LA. I miss its weather, I miss its mountains and I miss the desert. When I come back to America, it won't be back to Boston - I'll return to southern California.