From Crescent City, California

Friends, I’m having big troubles getting online. I would not have anticipated it, here in wi-fi’ed California, but it is so. I have not been able to respond to emails from the past two or days, nor to receive them since yesterday morning. So I’m continuing with “Travels” offline, in the hope that I’ll be able to upload text and pictures later in the day.

(An aside: how about that John Edwards, eh? I’m European enough to believe that an affair is entirely forgivable, that’s not the problem. But for him to have pursued a campaign for president and attracted so much support—including my own, after Kucinich failed to buck the media—that’s what I find inexplicable. The knowledge of an affair would not have affected my personal support, but with the history of the Clinton scandals, to be so willfully naïve about the likelihood of disclosure and its results is… well, that’s unforgivable.)

So I’m glad to be on vacation. We enjoyed a gloomy breakfast—the weather, not us—on the hotel porch, looking out over the lovely view of the Mendocino cliffs. Then went off in a vain search for a local veterinarian and, instead, placed a call to our Laguna Beach vet, who advised a worm medication and an application of Frontline. Poor George! The indignity!



He seems in perfectly good spirits, though, and set out in the car with us for the two-day early trip north to Crescent City.

It’s a beautiful drive. California offers an amazing diversity of landscapes, each as spectacular as the last. Driving first through a mountainous stretch of road between Mendocino and the point where the road rejoins the coast, our Prius took the winding roads in stride.



I’m proud of its performance: overall, no matter the terrain—including these mountains—it has averaged between forty-eight and fifty miles to the gallon. Yesterday, for the first time since we left Los Angeles, it dropped for a few miles to forty-six, but soon recovered, and ended the day back up at forty-eight plus a couple of tenths. Amazing! It has developed a slight rattle, audible to Ellie—and extremely aggravating to her, but strangely inaudible to me: it must be the frequency. But otherwise the car has proved perfectly comfortable, over this long distance, and a pleasure to drive.

The highlight of the trip north was unquestionably the side road leading through the Avenue of the Giants—a thirty-mile stretch of sometimes very narrow roads through the magnificent redwood forest.



These trees are a truly awesome sight, ancient, serene and venerable survivors of ten centuries and more, while humans have been fussing and squabbling with their petty concerns. It is too easy to forget how much we owe these living things, which provide so much for us. The vision of these giants was a reminder of how much they and their smaller fellows of all varieties need to be respected.

And then… Arcata!


Alas, sans Robin, sans Roger. An email—the one that reached us too late to connect in Carmel—had given us their cell phone number, so we called in hopes of getting a referral for a good lunch place, but once again we failed to connect.



We did, however, find the lovely main square of this small city, and enjoyed an excellent sandwich and chocolate chip cookie at the Café Brio. Ellie also picked up a referral for a vet from a fellow Kind Charles owner, and we stopped on the way north to buy some of the above-mentioned worm medication and some Frontline.

Driving on through elk country, we stopped for long enough to snap a rather unsuccessful picture of these wonderful beasts....



... and arrived late afternoon at our Crescent City stopover. What luxury! We have a whole small house at our disposal, lots of room, and the opportunity to make our own dinner. Not to mention the special treat for George: two other members of his own breed, one Blenheim, one tri, delightful creatures who welcomed George with great enthusiasm and spent a good part of the early evening with us. George is slow to warm to other dogs, but they settled down into an easy mutual acceptance.

And finally, the opening of the Olympics on a magnificent big-screen TV. What a spectacle! We were amazed by the production, the choreography of thousands, the innovative blend of high-tech media and low-tech people-art, the fireworks. We are delighted to have ended the day in such comfort, after so long a drive. But still sad about John Edwards…