California Spring Break

Mom and dad came to visit me here in Riverside over spring break and while they were here, we toured southern California in the coolest of all rental cars: the Kia Rondo. After rebuilding my patio, nearly getting robbed, and touring the ski resorts of Big Bear, the first thing we did was spend some quality time in Riverside. Perhaps too much quality time, but quality time it was.

While it was not the first stop that day, sneaking into the Mission Inn was probably the best stop. According to the plaque, the Mission Inn is a fake mission built 100 years ago or so as a hotel for rich people. Back then, Riverside was a bustling proto-Palm Springs -- the rich and famous lived and died amidst the orange groves. But now, all that's left of our town's ancestry is the Mission Inn, a strange conglomeration of maze-like hallways, bell towers, chapels, and courtyards.

This is one of the most historic places in the historic Mission Inn: a very scary cast iron spiral staircase that descends about 5 stories. Everything is twisted and bent, as you will see in the next few pictures. Behind one of these doors is a giant golden Buddha!

After the Mission Inn, we thought we'd take a quick run up Mt Rubidoux, Riverside's greatest mountain. I've heard magical tales of this mountain: inspirational plaques guide you on your way to the top where you find a giant lighted cross and monuments to peace and friendship. It's been said that the Peace Tower is haunted, that the ghosts of foolish Minnesota-born hikers come out at night to terrorize the living, that those who dare cross Friendship Bridge in sandals will be cursed with blisters and bunions forever more...

Exhausted, dehydrated, and unfit to even pantomime the act of hiking, we decided to head back home just as we reached the 2.5 mile marker and the start of the 3 mile inspirational walk to the top. Even though we gave up early, we did have a fantastic view of the fine city of Riverside. Behold the smog-obscured mountains, the 10 story skyscrapers, the California splendor below!

Actually, the picture makes little Riverside look like a very impressive place indeed. I did not know we had so many 10 story skyscrapers. Anyway, after a day in the city, it was decided to spend a day getting back to nature. We decided to pay homage to the famous swallows of San Juan Capistrano.

The story of the swallows is as follows: the pastor of the Mission of San Juan Capistrano, Father St. John O'Sullivan, was dismayed by the town's lack of respect for the mud swallows, small brown birds that built nests in the town each year. He observed several evil shopkeepers destroying the swallow's nests and asked, "But where will the birds go?" Since no one really cared where the birds went, Father O'Sullivan told the birds to go to the Mission where they would be free to build their nests. And go they did. Every year, the birds migrated south in autumn and every year they returned to the Mission on March 19th, St Joseph's Day, and the day after we happened to arrive.

We were very excited to see swarms of swallows flying to and fro and row after row of nests. This is what we expected to see:

And this is what we saw instead:

Seriously though, there weren't any swallows in town. I guess they don't migrate to the Mission anymore because of all the gullible tourists who flock to the town on St Joseph's Day to see them. The Mission was quite lovely, full of unusual plants and cool ruins. But no swallows. Not even a swallow dropping. Not even a swallow feather. Not even a swallow sculpture. There was, however, a touching sculpture of St Peregrine, the patron saint of cancer.

After we came to terms with the fact that we were duped by story written in 1925 by a priest, we drove a short ways to Laguna Beach where we were duped by some rocks. I don't know if you can see this, but about halfway between the foreground and the horizon there is a mass. We were making a U-turn on this street when we saw it -- A WHALE! We took a whole bunch of photos of the beautiful whale playing in the ocean. However, the whale didn't move. It was there when we woke up too.

Despite the non-whale, I really enjoyed Laguna Beach. It was full of cool arty people and cool arty stores and this cool, arty hotel right on the water. Look! You can see our faithful red Rondo out front!

We could almost see the ocean and hear the ocean waves, except for the beach house built directly behind our window. I really don't want to sound negative, because I mean it when I say I loved Laguna, but this was probably one of the worst hotels I've ever stayed in. Mom and dad have dragged me to some weird ones too. This hotel had styrofoam mattresses, paper walls, no heat, and tinted windows between the bathroom and the room so you could see the person using the toilet. I didn't pee for about 12 hours.

After our fateful night at the SeaCliff Inn, we made the long drive up the Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu. Along the way, we stretched our legs at this Marina and tried to stay warm. The weather was quite frigid on the beach, especially compared to the sweltering inferno atop Mt Rubidoux!

In Malibu, we took an absolutely insane mountain pass through the land of the rich, famous, and all terrain vehicle in order to visit Dad's long lost cousin Jane who lives in Thousand Oaks. Jane is a quilter and artist who has lived and traveled all over the world. She showed us her fabulous house and took us to a fabulous restaurant and it was a nice end to a kind of strange day.

Because we were unwilling to spend another night in a SeaCliff-like dive, we made the long journey home for some more relaxing Riverside time. Just 30 hours later, mom and dad drove good ol' Rondo one last time into LA, down Sunset Strip, past the Hollywood sign, and back to the Inglewood Enterprise. I think after this trip, which included subsequent legs in Phoenix and Austin, mom and dad are secretly preparing for the Amazing Race...