English is indeed a strange language. Readers are forgiven for thinking I was about to narrate a rather sordid tale describing our predicament and the last ditch efforts we might have undertaken to escape it. Far from it. I mean far from it is the real tale..
That of our weekend spent relaxing at a resort in the hills of Santa Cruz last weekend. Named by Spaniards as the Heavenly Cross (hence Santa Cruz) it is a 250 year old establishment that came to be as the preachers rode up from Mexico into California spreading the word of the lord.
Today while tourism is a mainstay it also houses one of the UC campuses and remains a easy weekend trip from the bustle of Silicon Valley to relax by the waters and stroll the many boardwalks or beaches.
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Bougainvillea accent an archway |
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The Pacific is at the horizon |
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The Venetian - colorful motel by the sea |
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Nice wharf with a view of the town and the ocean |
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Street Art |
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Santa Cruz Breakwater Lighthouse on a spit of land sticking out at sea |
We found our own spiritual retreat in a remodeled affair amidst Eucalyptus and Oaks with a view of the Pacific beyond. Some New Orleans style Etouffe with crawfish for dinner at a local joint run by two local boys was a perfect accompaniment to the cold evening.
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Sausage Gumbo and Mach Tchou (corn and bean prep with cajun spice) was another item we savored |
Morning breakfast was discovered by chatting with the locals. It was a bakery, next town over which also offered some interesting topography by the sea (and on the table where we dined).
It was a good retreat after a week spent playing catch up with the idiocy of work that piles up when you are away for a week (the prior week plus was spent in Japan so I think I should be excused for not knowing what the time of day was).
hard work comes easy to the Japs. I predict they'll be the last men standing, come rain or glaciers.
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