It’s been a lifetime since I’ve been to San Francisco. And Santa Cruz for that matter. Both last times were in the early 90s when I had friends going to Berkley and UC Santa Cruz respectively and decided to visit them to see how the hippies lived. Needless to say, both experiences were way different than my college times at a quintessential East Coast university with its big Greek system and lots of keg stands. Growing up in Southern California, I didn’t get up that far north much, so it felt like a good opportunity to visit after Hipster Jr. Jr. said she wanted to “visit big trees” for Spring break. Because where else do you go to see big trees other than in Cali? She’s also a fan of urban settings, so a San Francisco / Santa Cruz combo trip felt like a great amalgamation of everything she was looking for.
Day 1 (Sat) – San Francisco
Travel: San Francisco International Airport
Somehow I imagined the airport that services the tech hub of American being this shining example of tech and shit. Plainly, it’s a dump. Clearly going through a giant rehab project or something, the terminal we flew into and left from felt like a sad, sagging example of 1960s architecture and wear. We walked around like clowns looking for the place to grab an Uber, taking elevators to nowhere and generally feeling around like blind dorks. We ran into another family on the same journey and finally staggered out into the afternoon light in an area that could only be described as desolate and half-done. But our Uber showed up and we were on our way.
Late Lunch: The Codmother Fish & Chips
Just a couple blocks from our hotel, this is a popular outdoor joint that is basically — and exactly — a non-moving food truck parked inside a chainlink fence with some tables around it. You can smell the frying oil from blocks away, so why not? Plus, puns. Ms. Hipster is one of those people who always gets the clam chowder. So she got the clam chowder. In a bread bowl, because that’s the SF way. It was… not great. I got the fish tacos. I was pretty starving. They were fine, but the fry on the fish was a bit too heavy and chewier than it should be. Hipster Jr. Jr. got fish and chips. They were fine, but didn’t have much personality-wise. Overall, the cover matched the book.
Dessert: The Original Ghirardelli Chocolate & Ice Cream Shop
Ms. Hipster and Hipster Jr. Jr. both got $17.50 hot fudge sundaes. An obnoxious amount to charge for what amounted to maybe a couple scoops of ice cream, a little hot fudge, some whipped cream and one of those little Ghirardelli chocolate squares that you can buy at CVS. The general consensus was that they were just “okay.” Or “mid,” as Hpister Jr. Jr. might put it. The store itself is pleasant, but incredibly hectic, and feels like an old-school Cali ice cream parlor a la Swensen’s in a way that I did actually enjoy. The people working the line and taking orders were pleasant, and sitting out in the square on a nice day was cool. The whole surrounding complex is nice and touristy and feels appropriately historic and well maintained. Granted, some Europeans let their kids way too close to the fountains — European parenting apparently being an optional thing — and were a little annoying. But, overall, a cool example of an American factory turned tourist trap.
Lodging: Marriott Vacation Club, San Francisco
We are not actually part of whatever club this is. But looking at the Fisherman’s Wharf area this place was reasonably priced and relatively modern and clean. The concierge desk folks said we actually got a really good rate. I bet they say that to everyone! But, yeah, the place was well located and surprisingly not bad. The comments we read online warned about the noise in the area, but we travel with our own white noise machine and eschewed the supplied ear plugs. While there were definitely some garbage trucks rolling down the street in the early hours one morning, the noise levels were nothing that bothered us. Nothing like our hotel in downtown San Juan with the booming bass, fireworks and nightly revelry. There was no continental breakfast or anything, but they did have coffee in the lobby every morning. And there were free planned activities every evening and during the day that we didn’t take advantage of. Plus they left a couple of those Ghirardelli chocolates on our pillow every day. Hipster Jr. Jr. always checks for the bible in the side table, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her we were in the belly of the “woke” beast and she would not be finding that god book thing in this room. And we did not. The hotel does have a cool courtyard area in the middle with some of those oversized Jengas and Connect Fours and ping pong tables with foam balls that we took advantage of. There are also fire pits, but they weren’t lit up while we where there. Would have been nice.
Day 2 (Sun) – San Francisco
Breakfast: Pat’s Cafe
A small diner within walking distance of our hotel, we just went full traditional with this one. Honestly, all I wanted was a cheddar omelet. Issue with Pat’s is that they don’t really do that. They have a whole list of omelets, but none of them are just cheese. And they don’t do substitutions. And all of them come with some sort of meat in them, save the veggie omelet. I’m not a vegetarian, but I don’t really do pork and I don’t like a bunch of veggies fucking up my eggs. I think I could have ordered just a couple eggs, but those were $15.45. For two eggs. No way. So, I went French toast. Good call on my part, as it was pretty damned good. Again, we were pretty starving being all time-shifted and not having eaten for what felt like days. I think the toast was made with SF sourdough, which isn’t typical, but was hella tasty. Look at me being a local. I think the ladies were also pleased with their meals, but $19 for an omelet at a dinky diner feels a little highway robbery-ish. Though, as we came to understand, everything edible in SF — especially in the tourist-heavy neighborhoods we chose to visit — is pretty pricey.
Sightseeing: North Beach (Little Italy) & Chinatown
Walking directly from our hotel, we passed through the North Beach neighborhood, which quickly revealed itself to be filled with Italian eateries and establishments. It was a beautiful day around 11 a.m. and it seems most of the joints — bars and cafes and whatever the Italian equivalent of a brasserie is — were just starting to unlock to prep for the lunch hour. Dudes setting tables out on the sidewalk, women sweeping the wooden floors. While we didn’t get to experience any of these places, I would have loved to sit in the sun with a beer enjoying the neighborhood’s atmosphere. We kept walking, with Chinatown as our destination, passing Washington Square Park and its lovely church and groups of ladies doing Tai Chi. Unlike the Washington Square Park in NYC nobody offered us coke or even a bag of oregano and superglue.
Chinatown is enormous. Way bigger than the what NYC’s Chinatown has been squeezed into along Canal St. There area a ton of restaurants, stores filled with bootleg clothing and knickknacks and lots of Chinese-related ephemera. There’s a joint where you can line up at a certain time to get samples of fresh fortune cookies and tons of shops that feel like a combo of bodega and cell phone charger store. But, walking around, we were surprised to be amongst mostly Chinese locals and not other tourist families like us. It seems to be an actual working-class Chinese neighborhood and not some kind of Disney version put up for the gawking white people. As was evident by the many markets filled with various foodstuffs, sundries and spices that no white person would ever know what to do with. It was a cool cultural experience and, like a lot of San Francisco, topographically interesting / challenging.
Lunch: R&G Lounge
My original lunch destination was House of Nanking. We walked by the small, trendy-feeling joint to see if we could get a table, but there was a wait and the fam was both hungry and not psyched about standing around for twenty minutes in the heat. So we went with option two, R&G Lounge. Definitely a different vibe, but an option nonetheless. It’s a super old school Chinese joint. Overly fussy, but also very 1970s. I feel like there are some large banquet type rooms that open for dinner on weekends, but we and some other diners were kind of cordoned off behind the bar on the ground floor. The three of us sat at a large, round table and waited. And waited some more. Service isn’t their strong suit. We finally got our drinks, me a beer, Ms. Hipster some sort of Mai Tai thing. Hipster Jr. Jr. might have waited another 20 minutes for her water, oddly. Once we did get our order in, it actually came out really quickly. Confusing, to be sure. Ms. Hipster got some lo mein. Bad choice. Hipster Jr. Jr. got their R&G Special Beef, which they claim is a “secret” recipe. In her mind the secret is they use a little too much honey or sweetness — she wanted more salt. But I thought it was pretty good. I won the day with their honey garlic chicken, which was perfectly fried and pretty damn excellent. I wish my local Chinese joint had this dish, but even if they did, I suspect it would pale in comparison. Definitely worth the stop.
Dessert: XOX Truffles
I saw the ladies eyeballing this joint on the way to Chinatown, so on our way back it was less than surprising when Ms. Hipster suggested we pay it a visit. It was a warm day, so the thought of handling little globs of chocolate seemed less than optimal. But, once inside the cramped, very DIY shop of super-French chef / owner, Jean-Marc Gorce, I could imagine nothing less than a chocolate orgy. He was everything you’d hope for. Choosing each little homemade truffle — which does amount to not much more than an uneven glob of chocolate — as he tonged each delicate piece into a Chinese takeout box. I’m still a little dubious that his accent is authentic, but I’m a cynic. The chocolates themselves came in a ton of different flavors, some of which were obvious once you ate them and some were a little more subtle. I can’t say I’m often blown away by truffles, but these were pretty damned good. They were not at all fancy, but they were still hand-crafted and gourmet. Honestly, it would have been cool to do like a tasting bar with him so he could explain each of them to us. When you throw 20 of them into a box, it’s a little tough to tell one from the other. But if you’re a chocolate person, this joint is definitely worth a stop.
Dinner: In-N-Out Burger at Anchorage Square
What a fucking zoo this was. Also, In-N-Out is the most overrated burger joint in the country. The burgers were tiny and pretty tasteless. The fries are absolute garbage. Like the worst fries I’ve had, hands down, in years. And I’ve eaten fries in a movie theater, at a zoo and at a carnival. I feel like there’s some sort of conspiracy to make this place happen, but I’ve never been impressed. Even when I ate at the North Hollywood location (location #9) as a kid in the 80s, I didn’t quite understand what all the fuss was about. Also, I don’t love the whole bible verses being printed on my food containers thing. Leave that shit to Chick-fil-A.
Day 3 (Mon) – San Francisco
Breakfast: Latte Express
There was a derth of breakfast options around our hotel for some reason. But Ms. Hipster tracked down this joint, which is basically a coffee, pastry and breakfast sandwich place. And some juices and blended fruit drinks. But it is literally manned by one very old man whose English is… well, it’s not fluent. And you must wait to order while he makes all of the stuff the person in front of you ordered. It’s like the most soul-crushing experience I’ve had in quite a while, watching him waddle back and forth behind the counter picking stuff up and putting it back down and rinsing things and slowly putting them in blenders. But at some point there was a sunk cost and I just needed to wait. And wait. And wait. Despite the fact there were only two people in front of me. It is the most inefficient thing I’ve ever seen. But I ended up ordering three bacon egg and cheese sandwiches mostly through pantomime and repetition. Just before I realized there was no grill or cooktop in this place. The man literally made everything using a tiny microwave. The bacon. The eggs. It was bizarre and slightly disturbing. But, man, I was probably just hungry and needed the thing to be good after waiting for so long, but the sandwich was remarkably decent. Not good per se, but way better than a thing made in a microwave should be. We did realize afterwards that even if we wanted a coffee and one of the donuts in the case that we would have had to be there the same amount of time. There was a dude who seemed like a regular in there after us in line (after several people stood there until they couldn’t take it anymore and took off) with his dog who patiently waited just to get a coffee. It’s kind of insane running a business this way, but apparently he’s been there for years doing it this way and has made a go of it. Good for him.
Adventure: Alcatraz Island
When tourists do tourist things. And nothing is as tourist as taking a boat over to Alcatraz. Weirdly, this is not the first old prison we’ve visited, the first being the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philly. We liked going to jail so much we decided to run it back. Granted, Alcatraz is a much newer prison than Eastern State, with a history that feels much more recent and real. I honestly had no concept of what went on there and how the Native American population had a whole story that went on after the prison itself was closed. I mean I saw Escape From Alcatraz and whatnot, but that’s just a small part of the history of this place. And, no, The Rock is not part of its actual lore. Funny, looking from the mainland, the island sits pretty close in the bay. The water — even when heading out on the ferry — doesn’t seem overly choppy or dangerous. But I suppose the sharks and frigid water are enough to take care of anyone who doesn’t drown in the current. I’m just saying that I totally could have made it!
The main tour is a guided audio thing that walks you through the different blocks and outside and around the different main areas of the prison. They use historical audio and more contemporary interviews with prisoners and guards. The prison itself only operated as a federal penitentiary from 1934 to 1963. Apparently it being an island and being constantly battered by salt water and rain, it became incredibly expensive to maintain and operate. Granted, its location and perceived inescapability had it functioning as a military prison starting in the mid-1800s and a fort and a lighthouse and various garrisons and stuff before it became a federal prison. After its closure, in the mid and late 60s the island was taken over by Native American groups who occupied the island in defiance of the federal government. It became a tourist site starting in the 70s and has been rehabbed and developed over the years to make it more accessible to tourists and presumably make the rusty bits less stabby tetanus threats. Trump put out the idea of re-opening the place as an actual prison in 2025, but he’s a fucking idiot and there is absolutely no way that could happen without tearing the joint down and starting from scratch.
It’s a pretty cool experience. You get to see where Al Pacino served time. Wait, no, Al Jolson. Shit, Al Capone! Yeah, him. And a bunch of other high-profile gangsters, most of whom went insane from syphilis and various other maladies that they apparently didn’t treat in this hell hole. There are also a bunch of cool birds and flowers and plants that they’ve presumably planted to enliven an otherwise pretty dreary prison. It’s also San Francisco, so there is wind. And rain. And gray. But like a warm-ish gray. I imagine in the middle of winter that the yard (see photo above) was absolute misery. I’m surprised they didn’t just walk out there with an umbrella and let the sideways wind carry them up and over the barbed-wired walls. The ferries leave on a pretty regular schedule, so you can spend as much or as little time as you want there. The views of San Francisco are pretty cool, but there is only so much depressing old metal and concrete one can look at before you get hungry and need to head back to the mainland.
Snack: Humphry Slocombe at Ferry Building Marketplace
We got back from Alcatraz and walked along the Embarcadero looking for ice cream. Because Hipster Jr. Jr. always wants ice cream. There isn’t a whole lot along that walk, but it is a pleasant one as it arcs along the water. We settled on this Humphry Slocombe joint. Which sounds like the place I worked in high school, Humphrey Yogart, but isn’t that. It’s a fancy creamery that has “inventive” flavors. Trendy, I suppose. And popular based on the number of folks waiting at the kiosk inside the Ferry Building Marketplace. Which is kind of a food hall / Grand Central like market with different stores and stands that sell edible and edible-adjacent things. The ice cream was decent. I got a Peanut Butter Fudge Ripple that was subtle and refined. Ms. Hipster called it unique, but not in a gross way. You know those ice cream places that stick all sorts of shit in their ice cream mostly to be weird, but could care less about how it tastes? Well, this joint has interesting flavors and combos, but doesn’t futz it up with too much, instead focusing on the actual craft of the stuff. Good call.
Adventure: First Ride in a Waymo
After realizing we’d walked pretty damn far from the Alcatraz port and away from our hotel, we decided to grab a car back. And when in San Francisco, why not travel like a local in a robot car? Never having done this whole thing, I downloaded the app, gave it where I wanted to go and it directed us to a pick-up spot a couple blocks away. Which made us cross the Embarcadero and figure out directionally where the hell we were. We literally strolled up just as a Waymo was depositing its last customers. I fumbled with my phone figuring out how to unlock the doors and confirm we were getting into the right car — Hipster Jr. Jr. helpfully pointing out that my name was on a marquee on the roof which I didn’t see at first — and that the car would actually move, but only when all three of us had entered. So many factors! But, no, the shit was seamless. It made sure we were all settled and gave us a little spiel about what to expect and let us control the air and the radio. Without any small talk or anything. The Jaguar was clean and nice and the ride was super smooth. Honestly, I was a little freaked out for about the first two minutes — mostly worried it would run someone over in a crosswalk — but once you get used to it, it’s incredibly pleasant. Reassuring almost. While the cost is a little higher than grabbing an Uber during peak hours, you don’t have to tip the robot driver, so it’s basically a wash. I’m not exactly sure what happens with people who aren’t ambulatory, as the Waymo will only pull over to pick you up or drop you off where it has a clear space. So, it dropped us a half block from our hotel, but it was an easy ride for us. I actually waved to it as it rolled off to its next destination. Like a dork.
Dinner: Fog Harbor Fish House at Pier 39
I know this was a total rookie move to come here. It’s the most touristy place in the most touristy area. But, honestly, I’d read online comments and people seemed pretty pleased with their experiences. And it’s not like it’s a Red Lobster. At least, not really. But we wanted some fish, being so close to Fisherman’s Wharf and all. And this place fit the bill. It’s a sprawling web of tables on an elevated deck-like thing overlooking the harbor. The host was kind enough to give us a table overlooking the water, which would have been better if the dive-bombing seagulls hadn’t done their thing on the window a few times. But it was still a decent table. The place was pretty packed, but our server managed to keep up and was incredibly nice and cool. Especially given what must have been a pretty overwhelming number of tables she had to cover. I’d like to think it’s because she liked us, but I’m often full of myself when it comes to being a customer. First, the place has really good bread. And that’s not nothing. My Manhattan was pretty mid, but I’m not sure what I expected. The fried calamari — because we always order it — was pretty decent. We’re used the Italian type with the marinara here in NJ, but this held its own. So, to get my Italian fill — because I understand that SF is the one place in Cali where Italians might have actually settled — I got Cioppino. Which is basically just a bowl full of crab, fresh fish, shrimp, scallops, clams and mussels, stewed in a seafood tomato broth. And damn if it wasn’t tasty. I mean, how could it not be? Ms. Hipster got a lobster roll that she was very happy with — the thing had tons of lobster in it and was the type that was butter-based and didn’t have the scourge of mayo. Hipster Jr. got the fish and chips, which were decent and plentiful. Overall it was an actually decent meal, the waitstaff was great and the people watching was pretty top notch.
During dinner we could hear the croaking of sea lions out on the docks. We walked down after our meal and watched the hoards of creatures doing their call and response over and over. Jumping up on the marina’s docks and knocking each other off and generally being rascals. There is something really hysterical about them. They are loud as hell and the whole not having working legs things makes them kind of clownish on land. It was a good after-dinner laugh.
Day 4 (Tue) – San Francisco
Brunch / Lunch: Pork Store Cafe
A funky little — and I do mean little — hole-in-the-wall cafe in Haight-Ashbury, we waited for a few minutes for one of the six or seven tables to wrap up their meal. There are also nine or ten bolted-down, old-school stools at the counter ringing the open grill as well, but with three of us, we opted to sit down like humans. It’s an odd place, to be sure. But like cool odd. Real throwback-y. I just wanted an omelet after not getting one at Pat’s because of their weird you-must-eat-meat ordering system and no option to just get a cheddar omelet. And, man, Pork Store killed it. Honestly, it was a delicious-ass cheese omelet. The hashbrowns were also on point. Something about cooking this stuff on an open flattop grill that has clearly been well seasoned just gives the stuff a great richness you can’t get at home. Kudos to the chef (who we could all see working away right out in the open). Ms. Hipster got a BLT, which is not at all my jam, but she too was very happy with her decision. I don’t recall what Hipster Jr. Jr. ate, but she’s picky and probably had some sort of oddball comment about whatever it was, but I think she finished whatever it was, so we all left happy.
Shopping: Haight-Ashbury
After lunch we walked the streets of Haight. I have a general sense of its history, but at this point it feels like a mixture of tourist haunt and a little bit of residual counter-culture. Mostly, though, it’s vintage stores. Clothes and knickknacks, but mostly clothes. Similar to what Melrose Ave. in L.A. used to be — though a little more hippie than punk — before the boutiques and trendy clothiers took over. There are the used / vintage chain stores like Buffalo Exchange and 2nd Street that can be found nationally (including one mere steps from Casa del Hipster), but also lots and lots of local shops carrying varying fanciness of used clothes and items. So many, in fact, Hipster Jr. Jr. finally burned out on sifting through racks of t-shirts. There are skate shops and home goods stores and I think a store that just sells plants. Of course there are also tie-dye joints and I imagine a lot of crystals as well. I also recall a very large store that seemed to sell hats and every size and shape of bong you could possibly dream up. There is basically something for everyone. The only place we really saw some hippie burn-outs was a group of dudes (all of whom seem to have dogs) hanging outside the Ben & Jerry’s clearly trying to score some Cherry Garcia.
The only shopping destination we actually knew we wanted to hit was Amoeba Music San Francisco. Because who doesn’t love a giant record store? It’s only when I’m in these places that I realize I have never paid retail for an LP in my life. I probably bought a few new records at Licorice Pizza back in the 80s, but I have otherwise picked them up for $5 at garage sales and swap meets and the occasional antique store crate. I’m not paying $30 for a Pavement record or whatever. So looking around at these places is fun, but short-lived. Hipster Jr. Jr. buys weirdo k-pop stuff and found something, but otherwise I spent most of the time looking around at their concert posters and am now a proud owner of an Amoeba Music t-shirt that Hipster Jr. Jr. bought and decided didn’t fit her right. This is honestly how I’ve procured most of my t’s, between her and Hipster Jr., over the past decade. That all said, it’s a cool place and would probably make a real vinyl aficionado very happy.
Adventure: Second Waymo Ride
The weather turned a bit as we left Amoeba and took a walk into Golden Gate Park. We turned back after a bit and made our way back to Amoeba and the Whole Foods bathroom for Ms. Hipster across the street. As we stood under the store’s overhang I did a little Uber versus Waymo comparison and, once again, it was basically a push. But the Waymo was going to be there much sooner, so I went that way. Shit pulled right up to the curb, we got in and were on our way. No questions, no fuss. One very smooth and chill ride later, we were back at our hotel to rest for a bit before heading out to eat some more.
Dinner: Grandeho’s Kamekyo
Hipster Jr. Jr. generally defaults to Asian food. So I kind of threw a dart and found this joint. After all, we’d spent almost an entire day in Chinatown and eaten Chinese two days prior. Though Hipster Jr. Jr. considers Japanese a wholly different food category than Chinese. Fair enough. So we walked some hills both up and down — San Francisco is incredibly hilly, as you may know — and ended up in this small, homey restaurant at which we’d booked a reservation online to the lonely owner and absolutely nobody else. And, yes, it was pretty rainy out, but we were the only diners here the entire time. Not a single incoming or outgoing pickup order. Just the woman we presume is the owner and what must have been a sushi chef hanging in the back. And, again, I know it was a rainy Tuesday evening, but this doesn’t seem like a good sign. Our host was very pleasant and sweet, but milled about probably wondering about her life’s choices. Oh, the food. Hipster Jr. Jr. described her sushi as “weird” due to the fact they used plain white rice instead of sushi rice for their rolls. That’s a pretty mild rebuke as far as her reviews go, but not exactly glowing. I actually got “bi bim bab,” which is apparently the SF version of what is typically called bibimbap. But probably just how this particular owner sounded it out. It had beef “bul go gi,” which is also what appears to be a phonetically spaced-out version of bulgogi. It was fine, but lacked your typical banchan side dishes. And for $28 I kind of expected a little more — especially given the restaurant’s pretty casual space. Ms. Hipster got a bento box that she kind of picked at. It seemed fine.
Day 5 (Wed) – San Francisco –> Santa Cruz
Breakfast: Trader Joe’s – North Beach
Again, there is a weird dearth of to-go breakfast options around our hotel — not a single bagel shop or not-wierdly-fancy bakery — so Ms. Hipster went out in search of anything edible. She ended up at a Trader Joe’s and came back with some some muffins and stuff. They actually weren’t bad.
Sightseeing: Elkhorn Slough / Moss Landing Wildlife Area
The drive from San Francisco to Santa Cruz is lovely. But you have to take Route 1 in order to get the views. Winding through trees and stuff and then eventually getting dumped out along the ocean. There are little inlets and whatnot along the way that I think are state parks or just generally available to the public. They actually have bathrooms in some of them, which led to a great little jog into a slough where we saw otters frolicking and some seals and a couple cool birds. Just driving up the little side road to the bathrooms. I think you may be able to kayak in the waters off the road where you could presumably pet an otter or something. Though you probably shouldn’t. It was a cool, little treat.
Lunch: Burger King – Half Moon Bay
Half Moon Bay is probably wonderful. This wasn’t that. Honestly, I have no idea what possessed us to go to a Burger King other than the fact Hipster Jr. Jr. had been pushed to the edge of her culinary adventurism and needed something familiar. Though we don’t really eat a lot of Burger King. Like not in years. And now I remember why. Either Burger King has gotten worse in the intervening years, or this particular Burger King is just bad. It’s not a great sign that they have to buzz you into the bathroom — and there were certainly a couple characters who came in, but this joint didn’t exactly engender me to their brand. The workers were nice enough, but this is definitely the last time I will ever visit this place and probably my final dalliance with Burger King. We should never let Hipster Jr. Jr.’s palate guide us again.
Adventure: UC Santa Cruz
We happened to come here on accepted students’ day. Which was funny, as there were nice students all over trying to direct us toward tour meeting points and check-ins and whatnot. But, no, we were just there to take the self-directed walking tour because the campus is cool. If you’ve seen Devs, you’ll know what I mean. It had been probably 35 years since I’d been to UCSC, visiting a high school friend who went there. But I gotta say that I’m not sure it’s changed a whole lot. It is like going to school on Endor. An Ewok village here. An Ewok village there, and lots of cool paths through very tall trees and variable architecture that looks like it probably halted somewhere in the 1960s. The topography is awesome, with long foot bridges over forest gorges and even vistas looking down to the ocean. It does have the feeling at times like you’re at summer camp, but that kind of fits the aesthetic of the student body and stereotypical hippie / skater / surfer vibe that permeates. Granted, Hipster Jr. Jr. with her long hair, baggy jeans, Nike Dunks and hoodie seemed to fit right in. She generally has something hysterically pointed to say about everything, but was remarkably okay with the whole experience. Even with the moody rain showers we ended up dodging the entire time.
Shopping: Sylvan Music
It’s impossible for us to pass up a guitar store. Hipster Jr. Jr. and I are both lefties, so it’s become a challenge to go into instrument shops to see how many, if any, left-handed guitars or basses they might have. This seemingly family-owned little shop was cool and even has a little wall of around four guitars labeled something like Southpaw Alley (though not at all that). But, hey, at least they tried. There was some mom with her teenage son at the counter hemming and hawing over a $30 tuner with one of the young workers while some middle-aged adult-ass woman complained aloud that she just wanted to buy the stupid mandolin she was holding. She didn’t get the low-pressure vibe of the place, but it’s also understandable that being rung up is a good thing. Anyhow, we weren’t seriously in the market for anything there, but it’s nice to see independent sellers doing their thing. This wouldn’t be the last instrument shop we went into on this trip.
Snack: Donnelly Chocolates
Next door to Sylvan was this weirdo chocolate shop. The ladies couldn’t resist, of course. Now, reading his site it looks like Mr. Donnelly has been, perhaps, in this space for decades. But it felt like he’d just temporarily set up some folding tables and put out his wares. And his sales techniques are akin to an 80s crack dealer. Upon entering you’re immediately set upon by the proprietor — with chocolate on his face, proving his love of his own product — and offered a sample. I mean, that’s generally cool. But then it felt like you’re stalked and basically yapped at the entirety of the time (in a friendly way, I guess) about each thing on the tables and this and that. I feel like there were a couple teens off to the side perhaps making chocolate, but the space itself feels so cluttered and makeshift, I’m not really sure what’s up. Feeling pressured into buying something after the hard sell, both Ms. Hipster and Hipster Jr. Jr. got what has to be the most expensive chocolate ever made by human hands and sold in a ramshackle space on a nondescript block of a pretty dreary area or town. We were the only customers in the place, and based on the way he pounced on our arrival, I’d say we were the only customers all day. No wonder a couple squares of chocolate were like sixteen bucks. As for the taste, I didn’t get any.
Dinner: Mission St. BBQ
I’m not sure you think of barbecue when you think of Santa Cruz, but why not? And, man, I think we hit on something. Honestly, I’m generally disappointed with most barbecue we get. It often lacks flavor or is too dry. Or both. But, hot damn, if this joint didn’t avoid both of these pitfalls. I got the brisket and it was smokey and flavorful and managed to retain its juiciness. Trifecta! Their cornbread was good and — in a total surprise — their mac n cheese was really decent. It’s amazing how badly most places fuck up mac n cheese. They overcook it, sometimes make it way too runny or overly cheesy. But often, like the meat itself, it just lacks any kind of cheese flavor. But not here. Nope, it was the right balance of pasta to cheese sauce and all was vibing. I know barbecue is incredibly subjective, but I was really happy with my meal, and the laid-back atmosphere fit the chill of the city and the nature of the cuisine. There was also a decent beer list and apparently live music some nights.
Dessert: Fosters Freeze – Santa Cruz
There are some not-so-awesome sections of Santa Cruz. Seems this Fosters Freeze is at ground zero of that section. Honestly, there was a dude whose only mode of transport seemed to be the two legs that were barely holding him up who apparently told the ladies he’d be “waiting” for them when came out. And that was somehow between us parking in the lot next to this somewhat shady-looking establishment and me holding the door to let them in. This man — who was oddly wearing what looked to be a blazer — skulked outside while they started to eat their incredibly overpriced soft serve cones, but eventually gave up and walked down the block to presumably accost some other women. I would say that this was not the best decision, nor an experience that needed repeating. I believe Hipster Jr. Jr. said the ice cream gave hints of cleaning fluid. There is also clearly a lingering drug problem amongst what looks to be an aging ex-skater / surfer population here, which is certainly specific to the area, but also surprising for a city whose property values I can imagine are through the roof. Which, I suppose is exactly why guys like this are out on the street to begin with. Never mind.
Lodging: La Quinta Inn & Suites by Wyndham Santa Cruz
Location was great. The accommodations were pedestrian. Sharing a room with Hipster Jr. Jr. is never that much fun. This room was especially not fun in its utilitarian nature. It was clean, but with just a tinge of traveling salesman sad. There was that typical breakfast setup with the egg bar and make-your-own waffles and cereal and bad bagels. But, mostly, it has coffee, which is good. The breakfast was weirdly crowded. I honestly don’t know who comes to Santa Cruz at this time a year, but perhaps it was families with admitted students to UCSC? I don’t know, but it was decent people watching. People really give their kids stupid names these days.
Day 6 (Thu) – Santa Cruz / Monterey
Adventure: Monterey Bay Aquarium
We came here twenty years ago for our Cali Road Trip right after the aquarium underwent a major renovation. I’d come here as a kid a few times, but I imagine this is a much improved experience. Now, when we came here in 2005, it was pretty empty. Perhaps it was because we were here in October when kids were in school, but we walked right in and got to stand in front of tanks unimpeded. It almost felt like a personal tour. Not so much this time. There was a giant line to get in. Granted, it moved quickly, but there were tons of children. And strollers. And just hoards of people. I mean, good for the aquarium, as I imagine the money goes back to save and help marine animals. Less good for us as tourists. The issue with fish and otters and just about any kind of wild creature is that they don’t generally come up to the glass exactly when you want them to. So, getting the right angle or having patience for them to come around is crucial. It makes it a little more difficult when there are squirmy children in your lower back and/or parents with little-to-no self-awareness that stand there for ten minutes on their phones blocking the view while their children wrap on the glass. There wasn’t a ton of that, but enough to make it annoying. That said, we are persistent and got to see all the giant fish and the otters and the sea birds and everything else. We realized / remembered that children have very short attention spans, so the place started to empty out a bit as the afternoon progressed. Honestly, I could have stood and watched the octopus and jellyfish for hours, but I had to be a good parent / civilian and let others have a look.
Lunch: Cannery Pizza Co.
Sure, we could have walked further away from the aquarium. But the row of tourist traps and junk stores was just too convenient. It was warm out and I don’t think Hipster Jr. Jr. had it in her for a long walk. So we settled on a food we know she eats. And, remember, we are coming from the NYC / NJ area, so we have pizza standards. The thing is, pizza is pretty much good no matter what. In general. This place didn’t give me great confidence, but hot damn if it wasn’t a tasty version of pizza. Was it classic? Not at all. But did it have dough, sauce, cheese and pepperoni? It did! And was it weirdly satisfying? Indeed. Seriously, I was actually pretty happy with it. Maybe it was looking at all that tasty fish all day that seeded my hunger. Or maybe cheese and bread is just good.
Shopping: Old Town Monterey
We drove into downtown Monterey after wrapping up at the aquarium. For an “old town” there was an odd mix of kind of lower-mid-level restaurants and chain joints. I mean the Taco Bell definitely felt like it was old. But like 1970s old. I don’t think we were much in the mood for shopping after looking at fish all day, but we, of course, stopped in the The Monterey Music Store and looked around a weird large store where things seemingly fell off the back of a truck. It was clearly set up like a pukey Spirit Halloween.
Dinner (Mr. / Ms. Hipster): El Palomar
We headed back to Santa Cruz for dinner, definitely wanting some Mexican grub. The issue being that Hipster Jr. Jr. doesn’t touch the stuff. Good, adults night out. And we found a very adult-ish restaurant along Santa Cruz’s main drag, Pacific Ave. Walking past live music venues, stoners and every manner of semi-homeless dudes with dogs, we reached our destination in the the former Palomar Hotel. And, yes, we didn’t go for authentic hole-in-the-wall Mexican grub, which I know is like some sort of sin or something. But we wanted some margaritas, dammit. The restaurant is actually very cool. It’s in a very high-ceilinged space resplendent in Spanish architecture and artwork. Apparently it used to the lobby of the hotel, which served as a kind of anchor for the neighborhood. I dug it. And our margaritas were, in fact, delicious. The chips and guac were decent. My chicken mole enchiladas were, well, they were chicken mole enchiladas. Which rarely disappoint. Yes, we didn’t rough it. We didn’t find some super-secret taco place where you have to shoo away flies and bus you own trays. Nope, we had a nice night out in a warm space with tasty food and well-mixed drinks.
Dinner (Hipster Jr. Jr.): Five Guys – Santa Cruz
Because Hipster Jr. Jr. doesn’t eat Mexican, she stayed back at the hotel and we stopped at the Five Guys on the way back up Pacific. There were some interesting, but harmless, characters who came in and out while we waited for her food probably longer than a fast food joint should make you wait. But, ultimately, she enjoyed her burger and they threw in exactly one million fries, as they always do. I may have also helped her finish them (or at least make more of a dent) and it just reminded me how absolutely terrible those In-N-Out fries are. Just atrocious.
Day 7 (Fri) – Santa Cruz
Adventure: Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park
This was the impetus for the whole trip, honestly. Hipster Jr. Jr. wanted to see big trees. We originally thought about going to see the giant sequoias, but those are in an area in California that is both at altitude that could be be dangerously snowy in late March / early April and is in the middle of nowhere. So we went for second best and did the giant redwoods. Because at least we could wrap in a city trip and drive along the ocean to get here. Honestly, it’s a really easy trip. As is the hike through the old growth redwoods in Henry Cowell park. Hike is honestly a strong word for what this was. It was a stroll. Kids and tourists alike dot the well-marked trails. It’s hardly a strenuous or particularly rustic adventure, but the trees and surroundings are quite beautiful. Nature is pretty amazing. It’s hard to put the size of these things into perspective, but Ms. Hipster is 5′ 7.5″ for reference.
But the real draw here are the world-famous banana slugs. Mascot of UC Santa Cruz and all-around weird creature. The hunt for them was part of the fun. A ranger told us we might see one or two. But, no, we saw a whole bunch. Because Hipster Jr. Jr. and I are just into that kind of challenge. And, yes, they do indeed look like weird, little bananas.
Lunch: Laughing Monk Brewing – Scotts Valley
I suppose one could call this a gastropub. I think that’s what they call themself. But it seems to be a brewery of sorts with a couple locations that serve bar food. This is one of those. In a really weird area. A kind of industrial-ish brewery / restaurant in the middle of what feels like a town that’s still in the middle of being built. After our meal we stood out on their patio staring out into a giant vacant space that seemed like it just existed so hawks could hover over it. Otherwise, inside there was a very friendly, large old guy with two knee braces who served us and may have also cooked our food. The space itself is all hard surfaces and very open and I imagine, if packed, could be a good time. But at a time too late for lunch and too early for dinner, it was lightly dotted with a funny mix of dudes who rolled up on motorcycles, a family and just some people like us who realized there is very little to eat in this area. My fish sandwich was actually super tasty. I honestly don’t recall what the other two ate, but everyone seemed happy. I was driving on roads I was not familiar with in a car that was not mine, so I skipped the beer, but would have liked to taste one of their brews. Because that’s what I do.
Sightseeing / Snacks: Santa Cruz Boardwalk
It was already 4:30, but it was impossibly hot. Despite the boardwalk being right on the beach and it being early April. We walked over from our hotel and could almost feel the push of the crowd as we approached the arcade. Things went from low-key beach town to teeming teen and young person sweat fest real fast. The boardwalk is mostly carnival rides and maybe some rides that are a little bit of an upgrade from a church festival. Some of which had lines that I wouldn’t have stood in if you paid me $50 and sealed me in the bubble that could keep the surrounding temp at 70 degrees. Everyone looked very hot. Despite this Ms. Hipster decided to get a funnel cake. Because she can’t resist. But a hot, fried pile of dough isn’t something I want to eat while feeling like a human pork rind. I tasted a small bit. It wasn’t good. Hipster Jr. Jr. got some soft serve. It started melting immediately, but it didn’t kill her, so win win, I guess. I think you have to like this type of throwback-y games-and-rides type place to enjoy this. And also not mind bodies absolutely everywhere. I think once was enough for us.
Adventure: Mystery Spot
We are not above going to a tourist trap. And the Mystery Spot is most definitely that. In the Santa Cruz woods, it bills itself as some sort of geological anomaly where weird things happen. When, in reality, it’s a really nice little spot where some ingenious person built a bunch of tilted shacks and whatnot into a hillside that create optical illusions and tricks of the eye to make you think water runs uphill and Hipster Jr. Jr. can do the Michael Jackson lean despite barely being able to walk a straight line. All while the very young tour guides read off a script filled with cheese and goofiness. Yes, it’s pretty silly. Yes, our guide clearly wanted to be anywhere else and delivered his lines like he really hated his job that day, but it’s a fun little excursion. Especially if you have kids. Granted, when I first walked into the crooked playhouse on the crooked foundation it actually made me super dizzy and disoriented. And I’m a person who enjoys a good spinning amusement. But this isn’t that; it’s just an un-level floor that makes it feel like short people are taller than tall people and swinging weights seem to swing the wrong way. It’s all physics and playing against what the human brain expects to see — which, in and of itself, is kind of cool — and not an actual mystery per se, but a neat way to kill a little time in natural surroundings before heading out to something else.
Dinner: Circle Market
We had a long day and ate at weird times, so decided to just hit up a quickie mart for “dinner.” I think I got some Hostess CupCakes and we got some trail mix and Pringles and maybe some other chocolate covered things and whatnot at this market that is absolutely brighter than the sun. As mentioned earlier, there are some somewhat shady areas of Santa Cruz. I have no clue if this was one of them or not — as it was dark out — but we randomly picked this joint from Yelp because others in the area had like 1.2 stars and were called out for being dirty or shiesty or racist. Or all three. This joint was very clean, not at all sketchy and, as far as we could tell as three white people, not at all racist. Like everything else in Santa Cruz, things seemed like they were more expensive than they should be, but it was fine.
Day 8 (Sat) – Santa Cruz –> SFO
We drove from our hotel in Santa Cruz to SFO, returned the car and made our way through absolutely no line to our gate. Easy peasy. Which is not a saying I’ve ever used. But is accurate. Anyhow, fun trip to my home state. Maybe we’ll be back. Maybe we won’t.
