TRAVEL THERE: KING WILLIAM HISTORICAL DISTRICT IN SAN ANTONIO TX
If it’s art, I love it. If it’s Decorative Arts, Architecture and History, well I’m there. That’s the reason we spent our first morning in San Antonio at the McNay. It’s also the reason our next stop was the King William District.
The Guenther House
To be exact, our next stop was The Guenther House, because I also like food. The Guenther House is one of the jewels in the crown of The King William District. The Guenther Family founded the Pioneer Flour Mills. Ever hear of Pioneer Biscuit Mix. Yep, that’s them.
The mill is still producing and you can sample their wares at the restaurant, right there at the home of their founder. The home also serves as a museum and has a great gift shop. Deb and I took a look at it all while we waited for a friend to arrive.
I met Clark in my SFA days and stay in touch on Facebook, but it’s always great to get a chance to chat in person. We were able to get a seat right there on that covered patio. Deb had a salad, I opted for the Champagne Chicken Enchiladas and Clark just kept us company.
Of the two dishes, I think Deb chose the better one. Not that mine was bad – it just wasn’t everything I’d dreamed of when I read, “Tender slices of chicken breast and Monterey Jack cheese wrapped in Pioneer’s White Wings flour tortillas. Baked in our special sauce made from San Antonio River Mill Champagne Chicken Gravy mix, garnished with jalapenos and cilantro.” The tortilla was a little tough and by the time the melted cheese made it out to the patio, so was it. The flavor was great, but I’m a real stickler for texture.
The Steve’s Homestead
The King Willam Walking Tour
Soon Clark had places to be and I had the map a walking tour of King Williams in my hand. Now I’ve been to the King William District numerous times, but I’ve never been to San Antonio with anyone else who is as patient with my passions as Deb is. Every time I’ve been to San Antonio I’ve told my traveling companions how great it would be to walk through the district and spend some time looking at each house. So far no one had taken me up on it. I’d been through it on a trolley tour, I’d gone on the Steves Homestead Tour and I’d driven through on the way to Guenther’s, but walking tour and San Antonio had not clicked with any of my potential walking tour companions.
Villa Finale
Of course, Deb thought it was a great idea and it turned out to be just that. We left Guenther’s and figured out where we were on the walking tour map. Then we did just what I’d wanted to do, strolled along and discussed all the beautiful homes with the Walking Tour Map & Guide as our reference. Along the way we did take in the Steve’s Homestead Tour – delightful, by the way. We were a few minutes late for Villa Finale, so we just enjoyed the grounds. As beautiful as these homes are they only scratch the surface. Each home in the five block area is a treasure.
So, yes, if you go to San Antonio you should do the walking tour. San Antonio is notoriously hot and humid, and we walked the whole thing in ninety something weather, but it was fine. In fact, the tree-shaded sidewalk made it very pleasant. On the way back to Guenther’s we dropped down to the River and enjoyed the serenity. This is one of my favorite memories of this trip.
But the Riverwalk was calling. We had reservations at Hotel Contessa and we wanted to see the Fiesta Noche del Rio at the Arneson River Theater. Come back next week and I’ll tell you all about it! In the meantime, enjoy these pictures from the King William Walking Tour.
In the Villa Finale Garden
The Joske House – important because my Mom worked for Joskie’s Department Store for years.
There’s more than one reason I have a blast traveling with my bestie. One of the benefits I truly enjoy is her encyclopedic knowledge of movies and TV – especially movies and TV she enjoyed with her boys. Since I didn’t have kids at all and tend to know more about concierges than coneheads, I can be seriously entertained by things most everyone else already knew. Enter the sculpture garden at the McNay.
You can usually tell what is most important to me on a trip, because I will schedule it first on the agenda if at all possible. That’s why the McNay Art Museum was our Friday morning destination. As we pull into the beautiful grounds of the wonderful museum, Deb says, “Incoming message from the big giant head.” This made no sense whatsoever to me. Yes, there was a large sculpture of Marion Koogler McNay‘s head there on the lawn, but what was that “incoming message” stuff about?
That’s when I got a lesson on sci-fi sitcoms. Most of you don’t need an explanation, so I’ll leave it at that. We arrived a few minutes before the museum opened which gave us some time to explore the garden. Deb posed before the big giant head in the appropriate stance and we captured a few of the other lovely sites on the grounds.
Welcome to Sunset Hills
Getting to Know Marion Koogler McNay
Though I’ve mentioned the McNay before, I’ve never really told you how wonderful it is. Marion Koogler McNay was a patron of the arts and one of her husbands (she had several) built her a palace in what was once a rural area outside San Antonio. Now the estate is just minutes from downtown, surrounded by accouterments of the bustling metropolis. Learning more about the heiress’ life is just one of a plethora of reasons to visit the McNay.
Ms. McNay is one of those people who had everything other people want, but was denied the one thing she really wanted. Over the years as I’ve visited the museum, I’ve learned tidbits about her life and it is a haunting story.
Born in Ohio, to a family with money, she was exposed to great art at a very young age and it captured her heart. She was one of the first to collect works of Impressionism, which led to an appreciation of the schools which followed it, like Cubism and Fauvism. But the modern art of her day was not her only interest. She collected religious images from the Middle Ages and classic sculpture also. She was an artist in her own right and played a role in the artistic community of Taos New Mexico.
But all she really loved was Don McNay. She was still quite young when the pair met and married. Though she was well-to-do, her husband was not. He was just a soldier who was about to be posted to an assignment on the Texas-Mexico border. She came along and they lived very happily in a very modest house near his posting. In spite of her affluent upbringing, this was the best time of her life.
Unfortunately it was not happily ever after. Don was reassigned and shortly after leaving the border area, he died from the Spanish Influenza epidemic. Ms. McNay had not followed him on his second assignment, but settled in San Antonio, where the two had honeymooned on their way to the border town. There were other homes and other husbands, but her heart would always belong to Don.
From the courtyard
One of her husbands built this beautiful mansion, called Sunset Hills, for her, and even though she made it a beacon of art and beauty for others, she had sad experiences there. It took years to build the complex residence and when it was done, our country had fallen into the Depression. She held a gala housewarming, but the pictures of it seem to echo with disappointment, rather than glee. In just a few years her marriage ended and she took back Don’s surname as her own. I can imagine her walking the halls of her beautiful home wishing she could trade it all for just a little more time with the love of her life, Don McNay.
The McNay Today
Though her own life was sad, she brought opportunity and great art to San Antonio for others to enjoy. A visit to the McNay to learn more about Marion and enjoy Sunset Hills is more than enough reason to make the pilgrimmage, but on top of it all is the art – some of it hanging on the walls, other items actually a part of the walls, like the beautiful mosaic in the courtyard.
Membership having its privileges, Deb and I got in for free, thanks to my membership at the DMA. Then we began to roam the museum enjoying first the permanent collection, then wandering back to the theater area for some special exhibitions out there. One was called “All the Rage in Paris” and it had posters, costumes and other artifacts from the days of the Ballet Russe in Paris. What and interesting and beautiful collection!
While visiting the museum we watched a video on Ms. McNay’s life, which reminded me of some of the things I’d learned about her. We also relaxed in the courtyard. I love that courtyard so much that there is even a chance that I actually go there for the fountain and mosaics rather than the art. (Don’t tell anyone! I’m still trying to impress people with my art appreciation skills.) The museum also has a whimsical and wonderful gift shop, but I managed to leave without buying anything this time.
After a couple of hours, it was unfortunately time to move on. We had many plans for our day and lunch at the Guenther House was one of them. Come back next week and find out about Champagne Chicken Enchildas! In the meantime, enjoy a few more pictures of the McNay.
The view at Chart House atop the Tower of the Americas
TRAVEL THERE: SAN ANTONIO’S CHART HOUSE RESTAURANT
If there is one thing I hate, it’s a reviewer that can’t find anything good to say about any place they stay or eat. I wasn’t loving the place we stayed the first night in San Antonio, but I wasn’t going to let that color the rest of my experience.
Going with the Flow
I was the one who wanted to stay in a cheap hotel, but I had high hopes for the rest of the stay. One of the reasons I’d opted for the first night in a bargain was because I really didn’t expect to arrive in San Antonio until late that night, but travel is really all about dealing with change.
I’d expected sight-seeing in Austin, another town I love, but taking the tollway just got me to my favorite city a little faster. Having a meal in the Tower of the Americas had been on my list for a long time and the change in plans gave me the opportunity to do just that.
The Way It Was Before
Way back in the summer of 1968, on a family visit to the Hemisfair, we did not have dinner in the tower. If memory serves me right, I’m pretty sure we didn’t pay the price of ride up the elevator either. I think something like that would have stuck with me. I remember the wonder of walking through all of the amazing pavilions and adored the Institute of Texan Cultures, but all my memories of the tower are from the ground looking up.
In subsequent visits other things kept me from visiting the tower:
budget
bad reviews of the restaurant
not enough time
traveling companions who thought it was a tourist trap
I thought that the “not enough time” issue might come into play on this trip, too. I always have so many favorite things to return to in San Antonio that it’s hard to find time try new experiences. Arriving hours before I expected to, paved the way for an experience I’d wanted to have for a long time.
The Way It Was This Time
With a map, instructions from the hotel clerk and a GPS we set out for downtown San Antonio. Just as the clerk promised we found parking at RiverCenter Mall with no trouble. Somewhere inside my head is a map of the Riverwalk, but it always takes a little while for that map to sync with all the development around the popular attraction. We could see the tower and my mind told me where we should go, but we kept running into obstacles that my old mental map didn’t know about.
It didn’t help that the “You Are Here” map provided by the city next to the river did not have the promised red dot telling me where we were. Still it was only a minor irritation, because I followed my gut around the obstacles and soon recognized we were on the Hemisfair grounds – then all we had to do was look up.
The tower at night
If I was ever in San Antonio with time to kill, I think I’d kill some of it just enjoying Hemisfair Plaza. It’s a very pretty place, but I had my eye on the top of the tower. There was a booth selling elevator rides and the ticket salesmen pointed us to the other side of the tower for the Chart House Restaurant. We sidled up to the desk and asked if they had room for us. To my great joy, they did.
We had to walk back around the tower to the elevator, but this time we were inside. After a short wait and a quick conversation with a couple of guys who were also on their way to dinner, we arrived. From the picture above, you can tell that it was a pretty spectacular experience. The view alone was amazing. The restaurant was also nice.
I’ve been in Dallas’s Hyatt Regency Reunion Tower and the Westin’s Peachtree Plaza Tower in Atlanta, so I can tell you that the experiences are very similar. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out that the same architect designed them all. I can also tell you that this was not just a me-too experience. San Antonio is a town very different from Dallas and Atlanta. The spontaneous opportunity turned into a evening I won’t forget for a long time.
We were not seated immediately, but that was OK. We hadn’t had reservations and it was obvious that a lot of other people did. What was not OK, was that if I was going to wait I would have liked to enjoy a drink. The hostess pointed us at several groupings of leather chairs and told us to wait. I assumed it would be a short wait. There was an observation deck above, which may or may not have had a bar, but if I’d known we’d be cooling our heels for a while I would have at least gone exploring.
Still, I wasn’t an unpleasant experience. I sat in the big comfy leather sofa and enjoyed the view. I also enjoyed the arriving dinner patrons. Many were dressed to the nines, suggesting the meal was a special event. The restaurant was also recovering from a big busload of diners. Observing them go down the elevator in batches of a dozen was somewhat interesting.
After the noisy bus tour was back on the ground, a sort of calm settled of the restaurant and I smelled a fragrance I couldn’t at first identify. I pointed it out to Deb and we agreed it wasn’t a food smell and kept trying to guess what it was. Saddle Soap!! The leather sofas had been recently cleaned with saddle soap. There was no residue and the fragrance was subtle, but I enjoyed the little smell association game. Finally, they seated us.
Seated at the Top of San Antonio
We were looking north-ish when we first sat down – sort of toward our lovely Microtel. Not that we could pick it out from up there. As the evening played out we enjoyed the view until we were south-ish, but by then the city had disappeared into the darkness and all we could see was the lights. One disappointment was that you cannot see the Alamo for the big Marriot which is attached to the RiverCenter. That would have been quite wonderful.
What was wonderful was the food. The prices were a little steep. Not that they were expensive for what they offered, they were just more than I usually pay for a meal. We made choices around the outskirts of the menu, not so much for the cost, but because that’s what sounded good. And of course, we ordered Margaritas!
I started with Lobster Bisque – thick, creamy and delicious – just the way I like it. It was not the best I’d ever had, but it was a treat. Deb chose a salad and it was HUGE. Our next course was side orders – sauteed mushrooms, asparagus and an OMG order of Lobster Mac & Cheese. Good thing Deb and I had decreed that nothing had any calories during this entire weekend, otherwise we would have just scored about two days worth of them. OH – and we had a souffle for dessert. My mouth and stomach were in heaven and the view was out of this world.
Farewell to a lovely experience.
Since this trip was my belated birthday celebration, when we met Cousin Brenda she had a belated birthday present for me. Along with some lovely fragrance gifts for my house, she also gave me one of those gift cards you can use for whatever you want. What I wanted was dinner at the Tower of the Americas. Thank you Brenda. We didn’t have to wash dishes to leave the tower.
Maneuvering back to the car was no problem. My internal map had synced with the city. We did have an adventure getting back to the hotel. First the GPS couldn’t figure out where we were when we left the parking lot and then there was the back road approach to the hotel, but all’s well that ends well – right?
Our next stop? The McNay! You’re going to love it, so come back next week.
It was our last day in LA. The family had arrived in waves, and now Bill and I would be the first departing wave. There were only a few hours left. At 1:18 AM, my nephew texted me the location where we’d meet at 10 AM for brunch. At 4:13 AM he texted me to let me know it would actually be 11. The nieces and nephews were keeping different hours than Auntie Jane.
Brunch at Le Pain Quotidien
Before Steven married and moved up to San Francisco, he and Bassem were a pair of young studs enjoying the single life in LA. I can imagine them landing at Le Pain Quotidien to break their fast after a wild night on the town or even for a quiet Sunday morning reading the LA Times.
However, with thirteen people ranging in age from toddler to retired teacher, perhaps we should have gone to IHOP. The little ones couldn’t find anything they wanted to eat and for that matter, neither could I. It was all very healthy, fresh and chic, but I’d been awake since 4:13 AM and I was seriously hungry. Also, we were spread out over several tables in a corner of the cafe and I’m sure our chatter was disruptive to everyone else.
Next Stop
When brunch was over everyone turned to me for our next adventure. I was honored that I hadn’t been disbarred from the family after the Huntington Garden fiasco, but maybe Bill’s telephoned assurance that there actually were amazing things behind the tall hedges saved face for me. Problem was, I’d seen everything I’d put on my wish list except one and I was afraid the Venice Canals might not be appropriate for this huge crowd of people.
I confessed that my bag was empty except for the Canals, but suddenly I had a groundswell of support. Steven and Shannon had courted nearby and Bassem thought the area was amazing. Bill, too, was anxious to see the canals. So we loaded up and headed out.
The Venice Canals
Saturday afternoon with a caravan of cars is not the optimal time to see the canals – still I’m awfully glad they were included at the last minute.
The Venice Canals
You can’t see much from the car, so the entire caravan had to find places to park. I think that privilege came with a price tag of twenty-something dollars per vehicle. I thought that was outrageous, but everyone else took it in stride.
The Venice Canals is a neighborhood built on a series of man-made canals just a few blocks from Venice Beach. The cute bungalows were affordable back in the day. Now if you’ve got two or three extra mil laying around, you too can live there.
Except for the parking, it actually turned into a great outing for our large group. In ever-changing groups of three or four folks, we strung out all along the canals with everyone strolling along at their own pace.
Auntie Jane at the Venice Canals
The canals were a real boon to me. I don’t see my grandniece and grandnephew often enough for them to remember me. So, I was about to leave, but they’d finally decided to let me into their special circle. I pushed their stroller around the canals. We made up a silly game to play as we went over the bridges. We laughed, giggled and sang nonsense songs. I’m sure the residents hated it, but I was in heaven.
Farewell to the Golden State.
Finally, we couldn’t put it off any longer. There was a episode of fruit basket turnover as we re-arranged everyone to accommodate Bassem driving us to the airport. We were going to have to return the Maserati to him. I would miss it. My real car is a Nissan.
I’ll share a few more shots of the picturesque canals, but come back next week. Who knows what I’ll have up my sleeve!
TRAVEL THERE: THE HUNTINGTON LIBRARY AND GARDENS IN SAN MARINO, CALIFORNA
Until I started planning this trip I hadn’t heard of the Huntington Library and Gardens in San Marino. I was just looking for a museum to visit, since the Getty Villa would be closed the day I wanted to go. As it turned out, I got to see both the Getty Villa and the Huntington. Let me tell you – you’ve got to go to the Huntington.
THE HUNTING WHAT?
Even now that I’ve been there, I don’t quite know how to describe the Huntington – which might be part of the problem. The official name of the place is The Huntington Library. Quite frankly, though I’m very grateful our nation is blessed with wonderful libraries, I don’t consider them as tourist destinations. Also, it’s in San Marino, not LA, so maybe that’s why I’d never heard of it. Call it what you will, it’s one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been and very little of it is actually a library.
THE HUNTINGTON GALLERY
As I researched LA, some clue hinted at an art museum inside the grounds of the Huntington Library. Following my nose I found The Huntington’s website and investigated their collection. I about had a heart attack. Staring right at me from the webpage was Blue Boy – yes, Gainsborough’s Blue Boy. And do you want to know who is looking at Blue Boy from across the room? You’re not going to believe it!! Pinkie! Thomas Lawrence’s painting of a young girl in pink and white. (Go ahead and click over there, I’ll wait.)You’ll be amazed You’ve seen prints of the two displayed together a million times. Well, at the Huntington, the real things are in the same room…looking at one another. It was almost too much for me to bear.
Enjoying a break before heading out to the gardens
The Huntington has a whole slew of gorgeous European paintings that you will devour, but even if they didn’t have a single painting, I’d still tell you to go. I’ve been to a lot of luxurious, ornate, beautiful historic homes in my life, but I have never ever seen anything like the Huntington Art Gallery. Well, maybe “never ever” is stretching it a bit. King Ludwig’s Linderhof in Bavaria was on par. (Probably Versailles is too, but I’m still mad a Jimmy Carter for being there when I went to Paris.) Bottom line – go get your socks knocked off.
THE PRICE OF ADMISSION
If you go during the week, it will cost you $20 per person ($23 on weekends). It doesn’t open until noon (10:30 on weekends) and they shoo you out at 4:30. It ought to be illegal. Not the price, it’s worth every penny, even if all you see is the Art Gallery, but how are you supposed to see any of it in just four and a half hours. I could have spent four and a half hours in the Art Gallery alone. I call a foul. They should open up at the crack of dawn and stay until very late. Charge me by the hour. I don’t care. Just give me more access.
THE HUNTINGTON BOTANICAL GARDENS
On the paved road not quite seeing the gardens
With only a few hours to see everything and an entourage to manage, I made a tactical error. I thought the prudent thing to do would be to stroll along the paved road that leads through the gardens. Sure enough, you get a peek at the edge of the gardens, but not much more. The gardens are designed for you to enjoy them on the foot paths within the various settings, not zipping by on the paved road.
Follow me. I’m not sure where I’m going, but eventually you’ll love it – really!
Needless to say, my entourage soon tired of almost seeing things. Just about the time I figured out the drill, the entourage was through. I tried to encourage them deeper into the garden, but their visit was over. A lot of the conversation happened in Arabic, but I knew they thought I was nuts. Besides, I don’t think they had prints of Blue Boy and Pinkie for sale at the five and dime in Egypt. They just didn’t get any of my rapture.
Too bad. They departed and Bill reluctantly followed me into the Japanese Garden. Moments later he was calling the kids and begging them to come back, but it was too late.
The Japanese Garden, which was unbelievably beautiful, gave way to a Chinese Garden which was even better. I realize that I’ve run out of superlatives, but if you’ve been there you understand. Get this! There are fifteen gardens, each one more amazing than the last one. How are you supposed to see fifteen gardens in four and a half hours?
AND THAT’S NOT ALL!
As if being able to enjoy the Huntington Art Gallery in the gorgeous palace housing the remarkable collection wasn’t enough, there are two other galleries. One is home to American art and the other hosts special exhibitions. I’d pay twenty dollars to see either of them!
Oh, and why is it called a library? Because they have a huge building with 420,ooo rare books and 7,000,000 manuscripts. Yes – SEVEN MILLION manuscripts. Now the general public is not allowed to get their grubby hands on all of that, but they can see highlights of the library in an exhibit hall.
I didn’t even get near to any of this. I’m ready to go back, right now.
A GIFT SHOP TO BEAT ALL GIFT SHOPS
The Huntington Gift Shopis not the largest gift shop I’ve ever been to. Oh you can get a T-shirt, but why would you bother when there are gorgeous scarves, amazing jewelry and stunning decor items. Go ahead – do a little browsing. See if you won’t want one of everything.
So, now you know. The Huntington is more than an art museum, more than a library and more than a garden. It’s shangri-la, the garden of eden and utopia all rolled into one. Go! It’s wonderful!
But my day wasn’t over! I was meeting one of my besties at one of my favorite places for dinner. Come back next week and I’ll tell you about it.
Museum Girl has one word for you in LA: Getty. One word and two locations. Getty Center is a big art museum on a hill in Los Angeles . Getty Villa in Malibu is something else entirely.
THE GETTY CENTER
If you’ve never been to The Getty Center, you have to go there first. The location alone is reason enough. Even if you don’t like art, you really need to see this place to believe it. The view is outstanding and the architecture is amazing. What’s more, there are gardens and fountains that also think they’re the main attraction. Seriously, you have to go.
If you do like art, then this is a feast you will enjoy. All day is not enough. I’ve been several times and it still hasn’t been enough. There are multiple huge buildings. The museum’s holdings are encyclopedic and they get first dibs on the best exhibitions in the US or visiting the US.
What’s more – it’s free! You heard me – free. Not on certain days or after a certain hour, but all the time. Now you have to reserve and pay for parking, but this is LA where you even pay to park in front of your house.
THE GETTY VILLA
When I moved to California, Malibu Getty was being renovated. It was ready the final year I lived there, but it was impossible to get in. On my visits since I moved away from California, I never could work the museum into my schedule for a variety of reasons, which included things which were both my fault and theirs.
Just like I was determined to have an overnight stay on Moonstone Beach, I wasn’t missing the Malibu Getty on this trip. My nieces and nephews are not into museums in a big way, but I warned everyone that with or without them, I was going to the Getty.
INVASION BY SADEK
Two carloads of Sadeks arrived at the Getty Malibu promptly at 10:30 with free timed passes in hand. What an entourage! Toddlers, teenagers, Baby Boomers and more! Just getting everyone to the entrance was quite interesting.
Once inside we showed our timed passes and a volunteer invited us to see the intro video. He also suggested we have a look around the galleries in the immediate area, since there wasn’t anyone waiting to see it. While we were looking around, along came a busload of folks who got in line ahead of us. Helpful hint number one: Ignore the volunteer. Get in line and wait for your turn.
Do watch the video though. It’s very good and helps you understand the villa and the art.
CAN YOU SAY AWESOME?
Remember your world history textbooks? And remember the head shots of statues which stood in for Caesar, Caligula and Cato. Ever wonder where those statues are? They’re at the Getty Malibu!
Perhaps I’ve spent more time than other folks staring at art, history and art history books, but what impressed me most about the Getty Malibu was that all those pictures I’d been staring at were front and center. One right after the other. I couldn’t get over it. I can’t say that the entire entourage felt that way, but I was overwhelmed.
My husband adored the architecture. One grandnephew loved an activity room where you created rubbings off faux pottery shards. One niece was spellbound by a peek of the ocean from a terrace. My grandniece just wanted to run in the gardens.
In other words, there was something for everyone. Truth be told, I wanted to stay a little bit longer and almost everyone else thought we stayed a little too long, but we all had a good time. Some day, when I return for a visit, I’m going to go by myself and stay all day. It’s going to be great.
From the Getty Villa we went to Santa Monica. Come back next week and I’ll tell you all about it.
Now we’re on our way to LA, the last stop in our 2014 California Adventure. Our accommodations were quite unique. Let me tell you about them.
THE MASERATI
Have I mentioned that we have the coolest nephews in the world? I know I told you all about the one in San Fran – you know Jack’s dad. Well, I have another nephew. Bassem lives in LA, across the street from Hollywood and Highland Shopping Center. At least he did until a few weeks ago. And that Maserati? Well, it’s Bassem’s.
One of the primary reasons we were in LA was because several members of Bill’s family were going to be visiting, including a niece and grand-nephew from Egypt. Usually, we’d just bunk with Bassem, but he already had a houseful. Since he couldn’t offer us a place to stay, he insisted on giving us his car to drive while we were in town. That would be kind under any circumstances – when the car in question is a Maserati, well, it’s more than kind.
BUT WHERE TO STAY?
With Bassem’s home full to capacity, we needed to find a place to stay. Some other family members chose The Standard, but it just wasn’t what we were looking for. Even though we wanted to be close to everyone, we really didn’t want to be in Hollywood. And besides, there was just something about a hotel with an upside down sign that irritated my OCD tendencies.
THE SHORT LIST
You have two choices when it comes to hotels around Hollywood – expensive and bedbug bait. I spent two days on Trip Advisor and other sites trying to come up with realistic options. The Sportsman’s Lodge was very high on my list for several reasons, but I was afraid Bill would think I was nuts. So, I included it on the short list and waited for Bill to give me his favorites.
He came back to me and asked for more information about The Sportsman Lodge, so I knew I hadn’t been crazy at all. It was both geographically and financially desirable, with just enough edge to be interesting. I booked a room and looked forward to our stay.
COOL AND FUNKY
The reason I thought Bill might assume I’d lost my mind, if I suggested this hotel, was that it had (shall we say) unique decor. Sort the Jetsons meet John Wayne. The lobby had odd things like a rack of antlers (painted white BTW) juxtaposed with chrome stools upholstered in orange and glass tables with lime green accessories. We’re usually more into French antiques. The whole thing was sort of upscale meets resale. The parking lot was definitely upscale and our Maserati fit right in.
Everything in LA costs a whole lot more than it should – and The Sportsman’s Lodge is no exception, but once you get past the sticker shock, you can really enjoy yourself. The rooms are sparsely furnished in a minimalistic way, but you have everything you need. The bed was comfortable, but the view was the parking lot. There were rooms which overlooked the pool, but since it was crowded 24/7, I think I was very satisfied with the parking lot vista. And speaking of the pool, I wish I’d gotten brave enough to spend some time there, but everyone seemed so cool that I was a little intimidated.
Still, if I were to need another hotel room near my nephew’s place, I’d probably just return to The Sportsman’s Lodge – and who knows, I might get brave enough to hang out at the pool.
I had a great time with our family in LA, beginning with a trip to the Getty Malibu. Come back next week and I’ll tell you all about it.
Happy New Year! I hope 2015 holds much happiness for you and yours, as well as lots of travel!
Now onto our journey to the West Coast. We called Los Osos home while our house was built in Pismo Beach. In fact, we almost bought a lot in Los Osos rather than Pismo. I wonder what turn our life together would have taken if we’d gambled on that steep outcropping rather than the more sedate hilltop in Pismo.
Sally and The Great Skin Company
One of the first things I did when I moved to Los Osos was join South Bay Women’s Network. I loved that group of women and had the honor of serving in several offices for them – from Historian to President. It’s through SBWN that I met the lovely Sally Brooks and made my way to The Great Skin Company. In Sally I found a wonderful friend and at her salon I enjoyed some of the best facials I’ve ever had. Should you happen to go to the Central Coast, book something at The Great Skin Company and tell Sally I sent you.
On this particular morning, I didn’t have an appointment for a facial, but Sally had arranged for several of my friends from SBWN to drop by for coffee. I loved that the group is still doing great things for the South Bay area. I have to confess that I was proud that my presidential year still holds some record accomplishments, but I was lucky, I was working with an amazing group of women.
Cabrillo Estates
I hugged a lot of necks and loved catching up at Sally’s, but the road was calling. We had lunch plans in San Luis Obispo and things we wanted to see before that.
First we stopped in Cabrillo Estates, a subdivision of homes at the edge of Los Osos. That’s where we hung our hat for a few years. We particularly liked Cabrillo Estates because the streets were all named after heroes of the Alamo. Not sure of the reason, but when we lived there our house was on Bowie Drive.
When we were looking for lots, there was one we loved in Cabrillo Estates, but we ended up choosing a lot in Pismo Beach. The lot in Cabrillo Estates had the most dramatic view by far, but Los Osos is a sleepy little bedroom community, while Pismo was a happening beach town. We chose the beach town, but lived in Los Osos while the house was built.
Looking back, I was much happier in the Los Osos rental house than I was in the luxurious home we built in Pismo Beach. There are many things which contributed to my season of discontent, but I can’t help but wonder how life would have been different if we’d built in Los Osos instead.
The lot in Los Osos was intimidating – virtually a sheer wall cliff to hang a house on. Some one did eventually build a very contemporary home virtually made of glass and it had nearly a three million dollar price tag. Crazy for a house with less than 2000 square feet, but the view, as you can see, is out of this world.
The Top of the Hill
The top of the hill was also for sale when we were looking for lots, but it was an acreage we knew we couldn’t afford. Here’s what they built up there.
From Cabrillo Estates we went to an old favorite, Montana de Oro State Park. Come back next week and I’ll tell you about it.
TRAVEL THERE: MORE ATTRACTIONS AT THE GOLDEN GATE PARK
Foiled by the unreliability of the Golden Gate Park Shuttle, Bill and I entered the Japanese Tea Garden. We were unfortunately underwhelmed.
The Trouble with Travel
You know me. There’s no one who loves travel more. But travel comes with a price. The more you do it, the more room for comparison.
I like Japanese Gardens. We’ve got a great one over in Fort Worth and there’s another nice one in San Antonio. We saw one in Lotusland a few days before our visit to San Francisco and a few days after our visit to Golden Gate State Park, we saw an amazing Japanese Garden at the Huntington Gardens.
Judge for yourself. This photo was taken in Portland.
Still no Japanese Garden that I’ve ever seen beats Portland’s Japanese Garden. Two years later, my senses are still reeling from the beauty we saw in Oregon and the Portland Japanese Garden was among my favorite attractions there. So that should give you an idea of how stunning it was. (As gorgeous as their Japanese Garden was, it was still my second favorite garden in Oregon. Crystal Springs Rhododendron Gardens was the best.)
Small and Sad
You can’t judge a book by it’s cover and I suppose you shouldn’t judge a garden by the price of admission, but we were surprised by the $7 entry fee. That’s more than Ft. Worth’s garden, though less less than Portland’s.
The first thing we realized was that the garden was very compact. Fort Worth’s garden is huge and so is Portland’s, though not as large as its sister in Texas. Size isn’t everything , but the size does add to the charm, because in the bigger gardens you seem far removed from the every day world.
In every part of San Francisco’s Garden I felt cramped. I had the sense that just a few feet away was the world, because I could hear it and see it all around me. There were also crowds of other folks. The Tea House was humming with business and the line for it wandered through the garden. Serenity was in short supply.
Looks magnificent in the picture, but up close it’s falling apart.
The sad part was the evident disrepair. The gardeners are doing a great job, but the park needs to hire a company of carpenters and painters. Right now – before the wooden structures rot away! Peeling paint and rotting wood are just unacceptable. The Tea House has a rollicking business. Devote some of the revenue to maintenance.
The Rest of the Story
After the Japanese Gardens we waited around for a few moments hoping the shuttle would make an appearance, but it didn’t. So we wandered over to the Botanical Garden. Two things kept us out. It was closing in less than an hour and they wanted another $7. The last $7 each we spent had not been a good investment.
So we thought we might walk a little. We headed toward the Cherry Tree Azaleas, got a peek of Stowe Lake and strolled past the Rose Gardens. We were tired. It was chilly. We decided to call it a day. We weren’t going to get to see all of Golden Gate Park on this visit either.
I’ll Be Back
In spite of the disappointing Japanese Garden, I plan to go back to Golden Gate Park. I want to see the Conservatory of Flowers, the Dutch Windmill, The Chinese Pavillion, Strawberry Hill, the Carousel and the list goes on. Next time I’m thinking about bikes or one of those surreys I saw people riding. I guess next time I’ll need to do a little more research and be a little more prepared. Third time’s charm, right?
Next week I’ll wrap up my stay in San Francisco, but for now I’ll leave you with a few more shots from the Japanese Garden. It was pretty. It just suffered from comparison.
You can get one of these at the de Young Gift Shop.
TRAVEL THERE: I ALWAYS MISS SOMETHING IN THE GOLDEN GATE PARK
One of the first things I saw pass by, on the road outside the de Young Cafe, was the Golden Gate Park Shuttle Bus. Unfortunately, that was also the last time I saw the Golden Gate Park Shuttle Bus.
Running Out of Day
If you know me or visit the blog frequently, you know Mr. Bill and I have completely different body clocks. I fought it for years, but I’ve learned life is a whole lot easier if I cooperate with Mr. Bill’s clock. So even though I woke up raring to get out and start sight-seeing, Mr. Bill wasn’t quite as eager.
He slept later, enjoyed playing with his grand-nephew and eventually started wondering what we were going to do for our morning meal. We weren’t exactly the first people to enter the de Young. I’m not really complaining, because we’d been having a lovely time, but there was a whole lot of Golden Gate Park to see and not much time.
Where’s the Bus?
My trusty Golden Gate Park brochure informed me, “On Saturdays, Sundays and legal holidays…take the free park-wide shuttle which services all major Golden Gate Park destinations…The free shuttle operates 9 am – 6pm every 15-20 minutes.” I’d seen one shuttle go by, so I thought that by the time Bill and I finished our meal and were ready to see the park, another shuttle would be by. I figured it would be the best way to see the most of the park in the least amount of time.
See the park is 1017 acres, so the idea of walking the whole thing is overly enthusiastic, especially late in the afternoon – and remember, I already thought it was a little chilly. So we stood next to the shuttle sign and waited and waited and waited. We waited well over twenty minutes and if you add that to the time we’d spent in the cafe after seeing the shuttle, then you know that something was going on. This wasn’t just a free shuttle running a few minutes late.
At first I wasn’t too worried. I just perused my map and guide, familiarizing myself with what we would see. Eventually, I realized we weren’t going to see anything if we didn’t start hoofing it. In a panic, I read every sign in sight and realized we were quite close to one of the attractions I was most interested in, The Japanese Tea Garden.
I think Bill would have been just as happy calling it a day, but he is a good husband, so he trailed behind me as I marched towards the Japanese Tea Garden. I had some sightseeing to do. Come back next week and I’ll tell you about it.
jane sadek 