Off to the Sun: A Light on the Bay

It was a glorious day by any standard. The drive out to Cabrillo National Monument and the Old Point Loma Lighthouse wends through  some of San Diego's heavily landscaped neighborhoods, ending in beautiful, flower-bedecked Point Loma. This is, in fact, where Juan Cabrillo stepped ashore in 1542, the first European to visit what would become America's west coast.
This is a stunner of a park. The hills and surrounding trails are painted brilliant yellow with thousands of wild daisy-like groundsels and fragrant goldenrods.

Though we arrived at the wrong time to see the tidepools (low tide would occur after the park closed), the views from the water's edge were delightful, made more so by frequent flybys from dozens of brown pelicans singly, in pairs or groups.

Image courtesy of Carol Squire

The lighthouse is the "Old" Point Loma Lighthouse because, when it came into service in 1855, the builders figured its location was ideal - slightly more than 400 feet above the water. Unfortunately, fog and low-hanging clouds  often obscured the light, making it useless to mariners. In 1891, the light was moved down the point closer to the water, and the old light was decommissioned. Today, the interior seeks to recreate the living quarters of the families who resided there. A trip into town in the nineteenth century would have been an all-day affair; light-keepers and their families often created their own amusements, schooling and sundries.

Image courtesy of Carol Squire

The park offers the one-mile Coastal trail and two-mile Bayside trail (both distances are round-trip), and is an excellent viewing spot for whale migration in the winter months. The visitor's center provides additional information on the park's features.

It's a class 3 Frenel lens, since you asked

Image courtesy of Carol Squire

Richmond 2 – A Hidden Park, A Lighthouse, An Island

On my second day in Richmond, I returned to some of my old “secret places”—the haunts every travel writer has but usually doesn’t write about, either to keep the space from being overrun or the knowledge that it just wouldn’t be that interesting to visitors. I haven’t been there in years, and I was pleased to see a positive transformation.

The last western access to the east bay before the Richmond Bridge is Stenmark (aka Western) Drive, leading out to Point Molate (which I always used to call Moh-Laht, but it’s Moh-Lahtteh, according to our guide Craig). This area always fascinated me because of the seeming remoteness of this piece of land on the opposite side of the hill from the big bad Chevron refinery, and the almost complete freedom from fog that washes over the bay from the golden gate. 

What was once a fenced-off area is now a pleasant little park with a beach (no swimming, alas), picnic tables and barbecue stands—the big draw here, beside the peaceful surroundings, is the spectacular view of the bay, Marin, Mt. Tamalpais and the Richmond Bridge.

Farther down the road, there’s an enormous brick warehouse with crenulated castle-like turrets: Winehaven, once a storage and shipping facility for most of the wine produced in central California since before the last century. Rumor has it that barrels of wine were swum out to waiting ships in the bay, towed by children who worked in the winery. Across the road are homes for workers and navy personnel (the area was once controlled by the US Navy) that have gone unused for decades. The county is trying to figure out what to do with the property.

A boat home in San Pablo Bay

Years ago, the rough and narrow road over the top of the hill was my path to a houseboat community that had created a magical garden. The garden was a little wonder, made from flotsam and jetsam that had washed up there, succulents and flowers. The houseboats remain, though the lovely garden is no more. In its place is a small launch that takes visitors to an even greater garden: the East Brother Light Station B&B. The East Brother Light, a California and National Historic Landmark built in 1873, sits atop an island in the strait that separates San Francisco Bay and San Pablo Bay. 

The innkeeper’s “cottage” is a multilevel Victorian with five rooms available for overnight stays, all meals provided. This is the ultimate relaxing get-away: no phone, no TV, no Internet, just the calls of gulls and gentle lull of water lapping at the edge of the island…. and the teeth-rattling foghorn, which can be heard on request (Richard, seen in the video, shares innkeeper duties along with his wife Jude):

(To see a better quality version of this video, go to my vimeo page)

This is a beautiful, nearly untouched part of the bay most people don’t know about. Development here is inevitable. Go before it disappears.

Killing Time in Santander; What’s with the Caves and Lighthouses?

Santander Bay with assorted flying saucers disguised as clouds

Santander is a pretty old city on its own, though there’s nothing sadder than a beach town off season. A ferry from Portsmouth, England stops here, but this still-warm-and-humid autumn, only Spanish tourists were on the streets and pristine golden beaches, and not many of them.

I drove to the lighthouse and hiked around, taking in the views of the Atlantic and the town and the irregular shapes of the mountains behind it. The gentleman at El Laurel suggested a stop in the town’s park, with it’s former royal palace, beaches and little zoo; it was as well-maintained and pleasant as advertised. Sunday is not the best time to visit a Catholic country--everything is closed except for a few restaurants.

The former royal palace in Santander

I drove to the old fishing village, the original port of Santander; though the city is trying to turn this into a tourist destination, that goal is a long way off. I buzzed the tiny airport, knew I had at least an hour and a half before my flight, and decided to break my promise to myself of No More Reproductions.

Artist Henri Bueuil's drawing of an Alta Mira Horse, 1902

I drove out to Alta Mira Museum, the reproduction of the area’s most famous cave. It was as slick and Disney-ish as Lascaux II, though not quite as large or well organized. One striking thing about the Alta Mira ceiling: the bison herd. The large bumps in the ceiling, formed by the mud and limestone, had been transformed into a herd of nearly life-size sleeping bison, curled up in various positions, their standing brethren arranged around them. My favorite drawing was there, too—the Alta Mira rampant horse. I was glad I went.

I returned to Santander, and caught the flight on RyanAir to Barcelona. Long known for cheap flights in Europe, RyanAir gets you on the luggage—if you check a bag the day before the flight, it’s 22 Euros—at check-in, it’s 60 Euros ($32 - $87)—a lot of money for one suitcase. I understand their policies are changing to be more user friendly—I hope so.

Hanging out in Santander