California dreamin’ — day nine

A chronicle of our family adventure in the USA in August 2022.

15 August

Santa Barbara. Home to Ronald Reagan, Meghan Markle, Prince Harry, and then the Waters family for about 4 days.

It was a short drive down 101 and 154 to our next destination, where we aimed to have a few days to relax, recover and indulge ourselves after a hectic start to the holiday.

We’d filled our bellies with Cinnamon Buns in Pismo Beach before setting off and likely had our sugar intake for the week.

So, hopped up on sugar we pulled into the car park of the Hilton Beachfront Resort, taking care not to clip or ding any of the expensive cars parked up.

I’m not sure what I expected from the room but I didn’t really expect it would be overlooking the back car park of the hotel. That’s not to say the room was a total disappointment and, of course, rooms with a view always come at a premium. Still, the Hilton Carpark Front Hotel doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.

The location generally of the hotel was rather pleasant, however. We explored some of the grounds, and took in the extremely pleasant stretch of beach opposite the hotel. Not a bad spot at all.

Despite the look I’m sure Goody was pleased to be here!

We’d chosen the hotel in part because it offered tennis. So we made a beeline for the courts but were stunned to learn it would cost us $140 to play for an hour — with rackets, shoes and ball hire all charged on top of the court use. By the time we were faced with the bill the tennis shoes were on and we faced a choice of pressing on and swallowing the cost or an embarrassing change back into our own shoes and a trudge back to the room.

It was the most expensive game of tennis ever — and it was clear we’d need another option if we were going to play again, which was at the top of Rhyd’s holiday list.

Rosi was itching to try out the pool so it was back to the room a quick change and the kids were in. The place felt quiet, under occupied even, despite a conference also taking place at the hotel. There were few people in the pool, and so the boisterous bickering of our two kids felt louder and more noticeable than ever.

Where is everyone?!

We’d been recommended a restaurant called Toma by friends who had visited SB a few years previously. That entailed a lovely walk along the front to the pier and beyond. The palm trees, the soft sand, the coastguard huts and the pier all shouted southern California.

We’d not booked and played the “we’ve come all the way from the UK because our friends told us how lovely this place is” card — and it worked. We had 15 minutes before our table was ready and so did a looped around the block, marvelling at some of the beautiful houses.

Our table was literally on the sidewalk and separate from the main block of outside diners, all of whom had sensibly booked. The wealth and the ointments of the rich positively radiated from the various tables. I never feel particularly comfortable when we dine as a family in more upmarket establishments and it was no different here. It’s as though I expect us to be ejected at any moment.

I felt slightly awkward throughout given our somewhat ostracised position but the food was excellent, if somewhat old fashioned upmarket Italian cuisine.

As we wandered back to the hotel, I was on edge with the number of homeless people camped between the palm trees, a feeling made more acute by the darkness. Rosi was harmlessly dashing between some palms and out of reflex I grabbed her and snapped at her to stop messing around. It was a total over-reaction and a symptom of my general unease.

Of course, what I should have felt was total dismay that in a place so full of such visible wealth and excess there was such visible poverty, as well as more guilt for getting to enjoy myself and spoil my family when others have so little.

But I did feel threatened. Not because of any real danger but perhaps because this present poverty punctured my fantasy of a family holiday.

Some weeks later I would read a review of our hotel in which someone claimed “the homeless literally roam the grounds”.

We never experienced that specifically. But later that night as Goody and I sat and drank wine on the exterior bar terrace and chatted about what an amazing holiday we were enjoying I was aware that only a few hundred yards away those without such privilege were trying to sleep on the beach.

It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world.