NewportThis is Pulp Fiction kind of blog. Starting at the end to wind around to the beginning
It is 5:25 p.m. and I am holed up in a hotel named The Row. A perfect name for a skinny hotel. Here I am with Beau alonein the joint. It is located on Stevens Creek Blvd, in San Jose a city I lived in for years but no longer recognize. Without my GPS I would not have found the place.
When I pulled up, I had to speed drive into the garage that fed directly off Stevens Creek and Stevens Creeks is a freeway-type street with drivers tailgating so I really had to come in on two wheels to avoid getting rear ended. The garage was street level. Reception was located on the second floor which meant that I had to take Beau and one roll-on with me to check in. Well, “had to” may be overly dramatic. It is just what I did.
Arriving upstairs in an elevator that Beau did not want to ride was one thing. It was another thing when the man asked for my I.D. Oops. I left my purse in the car under the front seat. It occurred to me that there were other things to bring up so I asked if they had a trolley I could use for my luggage. Yes they did. So, I left my roll-on with him and took Beau and the trolley back down to fetch my purse. There were problems. The trolley wanted to go one way, Beau another. It was herding cats times ten. Luckily a man came along and he opened the door (it was not an automatic door) and then he held Beau’s leash and watched me battle the abstinent trolley through the very narrow door.
Then it was back up to the reception desk for check in. After taking my license to verify my I.d., the man at the desk asked for my email and he sent me an email that included the room number, the code to unlock the door and other pertinent info. OMG. This was a first.
Down the hall we wandered veering from one side of the hall to the other to the NEXT TO THE LAST room on the floor. There on the door was a gizmo that I did not immediately figure out how to use. So I found my flashlight app and read that I needed to place the palm of my hand on the gizmo. Following those instructions, the numbers were back-lit and they turned on. Then I entered my code twice (failed the first attempt) and finally entered the kingdom of heaven. It had been a long day and I was at my wits end.
Where was Rayman, you ask. I left him off near the airport in San Jose where we met up with number one son that had flown down yesterday. Then we went to a sandwich shop which had closed but the people were still there and I begged them for food. They took pity and made us two sandwiches. Almost unbelievable. Then I drove them to Hampton Inn and dropped them off. They were going to a football game. A Monday night NFL football game. It was a Father’s Day present from Ryan. So cool.
Dogs were not allowed in the hotel Ryan booked so I booked this skinny hotel. And here I am.
As I was leaving the hotel to walk the Beau, the man at the desk was still there. I mentioned to him that a bell boy would be useful at this property. As I was delivering my complaint, another man walked up and butted in and there went any conversation I thought I was going to have.
Old women don’t register with many people. And this was an excellent example. I don’t mind being invisible, but I don’t like being ignored. It is unseemly.
Do I hear a “Hallelujah, Sister?
At Local Ocean restaurant in Newport, OR
We left Portland last Friday and drove as far as Yachats, OR stopping in Newport for lunch.
Located on the Pacific Ocean four hours south of PDX, it was a good spot for the night. While our room wasn’t ocean facing, we had a peek of it through our window. The hotel was off the highway about 200 yards and it sat right on the ocean. There were giant waves and lots of tide pools. The waves made it too dangerous to look at the tide pools. It was called Fireside Motel.
The next morning we found a spot to eat breakfast and then drove down the fog shrouded Highway 1 toward California. It was a beautiful ride because it was a high fog. We could see the ocean, the dunes, and trees. We had planned the trip to average four hours travels a day. It was working. We were feeling the stress in our shoulders fall away the further south we traveled. After nine months of moving, we were awash in gratitude for some time away.
Newport marina.
Vista stop of the Pacific Ocean! On our way to Crescent City, CA
At the end of the day, we checked into a Best Western in Crescent City where the price of gas went up to the clouds. Arriving about 4 p.m., we walked Beau and went to an early dinner at a cool brewery and had a great dinner…red snapper was split as was a walnut/cranberry salad with various rough-age! The issue we had was that they assigned us a room that looked out onto a wall about feet from the door. No view. It was a property I would not recommend. Scant electrical outlets…and in this day and age, that is a sin. After all, we have our contraptions…phones, rechargeable hearing aids, toothbrush of the electric variety, computer, iPad. Quite an amazing array of “must haves” for modern life.
So, we left the next morning and continued our land voyage south. Fog laying on the road with early morning shafts of light defused the through the redwoods. Oh, the redwoods. Mighty and tall. Tall and mighty. They do take your breath away. Only 5% left. It is so sad. However, we totally enjoyed the ride through the forests.
We stopped to say hi to Paul Bunyan and Babe. Gives some perspective on how big those trees were.
The thing is when you want to transition from highway 101 to highway 1, you must go over mountains. And that is how we did it on a road so curvy, it strained our imaginations. Hairpin Curve Road should have been the name of the road. One after another. And if you overshot the curve, you were going to meet your maker. Straight down, no guardrails. More suitable for motorcycles than RVs and big trucks which were present now and then.
The trip was worth it. We checked into the Beachcomber Inn and scored the best room of the trip. As we had done the whole trip, we went in search for an early dinner and ended up sitting outside under a bridge, on a wharf in foggy circumstances where we split a salmon burger cooked on an outdoor grill from a skimpy menu because their kitchen next door had suffered a fire on Wednesday. (They were serving from their fish market). So we counted ourselves lucky. We let Beau feast with us and had a grand time while helping a women-owned business stay afloat on the wharf!!
Early morning view from our room!
Under the bridge for dinner.
After dinner we went back to the motel and took a walk on the beach (finally) and let Beau have his way with the sand and the sea. Fabulous, just fabulous.
Today, we left Ft. Bragg and traversed another road with curves before hooking up with highway 101 to beat feet down to meet Ryan for the game tonight. And that is how I wound up in The Row Hotel located a breath away from busy Stevens Creek Blvd in San Jose. And the worst thing of all is that it doesn’t have a bar. I can’t even drown my sorrows! Although I must say, the trip was great and I look forward to continuing the trip on my road of life as an old woman.
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