Our Christmas getaway now seems much like dreams of a childhood Santa Claus. How did we become overnight guests at the splendid Ritz Carlton Hotel on the shores of a blustery Pacific Ocean at the tiny town of Half Moon Bay? It started with Scott Angeletti, a creative tour director for Sports Leisure Travel. He had hosted trips to the Ritz Hotel at Lake Tahoe as well as tours along the coast to Monterey and Carmel. He wondered if it would be possible to create a two night-three day trip to the Bay Area and negotiate an affordable stay at the Ritz on one of those nights. He succeeded.

We signed up for the trip in May so we had half a year to look forward to it. It far exceeded our expectations. On Saturday Scott served box lunches on the bus. Our first stop was at Filoli Gardens mansion. For nine days in December nearly two thousand volunteers turn the ground floor of the mansion into an upscale Christmas store to raise money to keep the gardens open to the public.

After two hours of shopping we headed to the San Jose Fairmont Hotel located next to the Ceasar Chavez Park which had been turned into a delightful Christmas park with a couple of hundred decorated Christmas trees, rides for the children, scenes of elves and Santa Claus preparing for Christmas, an outdoor ice skating rink, carnival rides, food stations and vendors. Many families enjoyed the excitement and splendor. Lost in this two block wonderland was one nativity scene. I wondered how many of those children know why we celebrate Christmas.

Two blocks north of the Fairmont Hotel the grand Cathedral Basilica of St. Joseph hosted the debut Gaude choral group concert at 8 o’clock that night. Four men and four women made up the group. They sang old German songs written as far back as the fifteenth century. The excellent acoustics in the magnificent cathedral accented the perfect harmony of the singers. A great experience!

The following day we ate an amazing brunch at the Hayes Mansion, another place with a fascinating Bay area family story. Waiting for us that evening on the grand plaza by the sea was the lighting of the Christmas tree. Seats were set up in rows and the large fire pits were lit early. A local high school boys choir entertained with Christmas songs, no traditional carols. The MC announced the winners
of the gingerbread houses lining the hotel halls. Santa Claus rode down the hill by the ocean in a golf cart. With a couple of children from the audience he lit the Christmas tree. Christmas messages and pictures were projected onto the large hotel wall.

We arrived home Monday evening full of Christmas, but looking for a missing “Merry Christmas” after being saturated with “Happy Holidays” for three days. I wish my readers a Merry Christmas and of course Happy Holidays as well.

As we headed to the Northern California coast after our longest absence, I could feel any tension or anxious thoughts disappear into the misty cloudy fog that had our windshield wipers active after a long summer rest. “So which route shall we take?” I asked my husband. “You’re driving. You decide.”

I decided to drive west through the middle of the old town of Petaluma divided by Hiwy 101. It was a cloudy moody day. The usually lush green farmland was so dry the cattle and sheep no longer looked like the pampered animals in television ads.

We met dozens of campers and cars pulling trailers leaving the coast. Not much traffic going west. A fork in the road pointing south to picturesque Pt. Reyes always tempts me to go that way. Sometimes I do, but on this day I hung tight to the steering wheel and turned north on Hiwy l through Tamales, best known as the place to turn toward popular Dillon Beach.

Ten miles north on Hiwy l we came to Bodega Bay where we had lunch at the Tides which has windows facing the Bay. A curtain of fog rose from the water blocking the view. The Tides is expensive so we had breakfast for the second time.

As we drove the familiar curves of this famous ocean highway I couldn’t resist rolling down my window to let in the sounds, the smell, and the feel of the wonderful Pacific Ocean. On through Jenner, over the cliffs toward Ft. Ross, Salt Point, past Sea Ranch to Gualala and the Sea Cliff  Motel where we would spend two wonderful nights bathed in the wonder of this magical place.

California got its first really soaking rain after a long dry spell. The next morning the fog was gone. The sun turned the sky into a beautiful blue with white fluffy clouds. The ocean matched it with its own blue with white capped waves. We took a long walk beside this noisy beauty intoxicated by the stimulation of all of our senses. I love the ocean. For me it is the perfect getaway every time..

Little church in Genoa

Sunshine in October warmed our bodies and spirits as we relaxed at Tahoe Ridge last week. Travelers winding their way up Kingsbury Grade believe the Tower building at the Ridge is a fairy castle guarding the lush green Carson Valley seven thousand feet below. Relaxing in our seventh floor apartment makes it easy to let go of the pressure of appointments, deadlines, meetings, and assorted obligations of every day life.

We brought books and writing material. Everett read Matthew and Mark in the New Testament, something he had been wanting to do again. I read my mother’s diaries from 1943 and 1944. I realized I had some revising to do on the memoir I am writing.

Glorious sunrises and sunsets entertained us. We had spectacular views from our bedroom, living room, and balcony. At night, lights turn the valley into a fairy land impossible to capture with our little camera. Car headlights turn into eyes of wild animals creeping up the seven mile grade. They disappear around the curves.

The highlight of the week came when our daughter, son-in-law, and two granddaughters joined us for the weekend. On Sunday morning we all went to a tiny church in Genoa at the base of the mountain range. We got the last row of empty seats. The pastor invited Emily and Kendra to ring the bell. The girls were enchanted. “It’s just like the little house on the prairie,” they said. We felt the warmth and love of the strangers who amazingly are our brothers and sisters.