A Five-Block Adventure in Downtown Ventura

Given how close Ventura is and how much I like to explore, I know remarkably little about the city. When my husband and I ate at Pinyon‘s new outpost there a while back, I suggested we take a preprandial stroll on the car-free stretch of E. Main Street. I realized immediately that I’d have to return for a blog-walk—especially after learning that the city may reopen the street to cars in November. It’s a lot easier to do these posts when you don’t have to worry about being run over.

I parked on S. Palm Street and walked west on Santa Clara Street toward the Figueroa Street Mall, a pedestrian-only block below E. Main. Two fountains are connected by a channel that I love the look of but wonder how frequently people trip on it.

Knights of Columbus is one of those organizations that I have never thought much about. According to a press release, it’s “the world’s premier lay Catholic men’s organization, with more than 2.1 million members in over 16,800 local councils [….] Based on the founding principles of charity, unity and fraternity, the Knights of Columbus is committed to strengthening Catholic families and parishes, and to practicing faith in action through service to all in need.”

Next door is what was once China Alley. Plus ça change….

In the early 1880’s, a flourishing Chinese settlement made up of merchants, laborers, and families settled in an area along Figueroa Street between Main and Santa Clara Streets. The largest concentration of activity was in an area known as China Alley, which ran perpendicular to Figueroa Street. […] During the early days of immigration, the people of San Buenaventura welcomed their new Chinese neighbors as an inexpensive source of labor. However, with the incorporation of strict national immigration laws in the early 20th century, a hostile environment forced the residents of China Alley to relocate to other areas. Nothing remains of Ventura’s Chinatown (called Sui Mon Gongby [by] its residents) that began in 1866 and grew to house over 200 Chinese until 1923.

The walk began in earnest on E. Main Street, where Ventura never got around to finding an attractive way to thwart rogue drivers. I’d have been tempted to paint Minion- or Simpsons-style faces on the yellow bollards.

The Ventura logo—which reads the same upside down—is a fascinating bit of typography. I wouldn’t say that it completely succeeds, although it did make me stop and look. And as Instagram bait, I prefer it to the heart and Adirondack chair. (I’ll always be a sucker for those cut-outs you stick your head into, though, even if they’re hard—but not impossible!—to do by yourself.)

I had no idea that Ventura has a mission—the Mission Basilica San Buenaventura, to be precise, founded in 1782. (Fourth grade was a long time ago.) Counterintuitively, you enter through the gift shop. The mural by Michael O’Kelly was completed in 2018 to mark the city’s sesquicentennial. A key at the bottom allows you to look up anyone who seems interesting—such as Mrs. Clyde Dougherty of the Saticoy Country Club Luau, who is doing the hula, not shrugging.

I saved the Mission for another day, but I did visit the gift shop. As cute as the option to pay with Spanish gold coins is, Santa Barbara’s gift shop trumps it.

There are some really great buildings along this section of E. Main. Whoever came up with the wraparound signage at Fluid State‘s taproom deserves praise.

The Ed Foster Library is from a different era, but no less admirable. When I first saw Topping Room, I thought of frozen yogurt, but it’s actually shorthand for the Elizabeth Topping Assembly Room.

And check out the fabulous art deco movie theater! Surprisingly, it dates from the 1990s. The “Century” part of the signage is a poor fit, but at least you can avoid it from straight on.

My favorite architectural moment is the El Jardin Courtyard, which feels like it could be in Santa Barbara.

The vacant lot at 297 E. Main is an opportunity for something wonderful. The approved design is not particularly contextual, but then given the variety of architecture, I’m not sure what would be.

If we’re going to be honest, there are a lot of drecky buildings on the strip. This is just one of them, but you can catch glimpses in the other photos in this post.

And there are also some terrific vintage storefronts. The downtown outpost of Peirano’s closed earlier this year, alas, but Star Lounge is still up and running. The photo of the Birds Aren’t Real sticker is a test to see how closely my husband, who’s a big fan, reads this post. If you see someone around town in a “Pigeons are liars” shirt, that’s him.

The best sign is the boot at Ventura Leather, still kicking after 49 years. It brought up memories of visiting the not remotely related Leather Man in New York City when I was but a twink—a story for another day and a different blog. I didn’t venture inside because I left my mask in 2021.

My walk occurred on a quiet Monday afternoon, so I can’t say whether the street makes the most of its carlessness. This Americana trio perked things up, as did a sighting—and petting—of a lovely pug named Moo Shu.

There were signs that things can be too lively. Does “sports attire” mean team logos? Do guys get into fights over that kind of nonsense?

And there are signs of struggle. Business owners are the main proponents of reopening the street, insisting that the closure has hurt them.

The preponderance of thrift stores is not exactly an indicator of a strong local economy.

Vintage/antiques shops are thrift stores’ relatively upmarket cousins.

I ventured into one, but not this one.

It was all just too much—as tempting as the koala bookends were, I’m in the stage of life where I want to get rid of stuff, not accumulate more.

There are also quite a few gift shops, which I assume are aimed at tourists. I was positive the sandwich board had to be a typo, but the back side also touted “pons,” so I went inside and asked. It’s a footwear brand.

What makes the strip so fun to explore are all the independent businesses. I’m sure landlords would kill for the national chains—Lululemon, Vans, Urban Outfitters, Marshall’s, et al—that still call State Street home, but for a walker, these are far more rewarding.

That even goes for the tattoo parlor. I can only imagine the look on my dentist’s face if I were to roll in with a tooth gem or two.

This store is actually named All About U by SK. It apparently sells ruffled clothing.

American Flags & Cutlery certainly carves out a niche. The shop was closed, and because the “back in 15 minutes” didn’t mention a start time, there was no telling when it might reopen. I did peek through the glass. I guess American Flags & Cutlery & Dish Towels doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Industry Horror is a goth/punk shop with a great cause: “every purchase and donation supports job training and long-term employment for Autistic Adults, fostering independence and a brighter future.” I should’ve bought the shirt below for my friend Tim, who once dressed up as the Morton Salt Girl—probably for Halloween, but possibly just because.

Signs of gentrification pop up here and there. Take Iron & Resin‘s spiffy store, an unbranded skin care shop, or Smitten Bookstore.

Speaking of bookstores, Three Star Book & News “started out as a magazine stand and evolved over the years into a premium adult books and novelties store.” (I’m not a big Yelp user, but there are times when you just have to check out an establishment’s reviews. This one benefits from being read out loud: “I was in for an automatic Bluetooth hands-free fleshlight and the kind gentleman also asked me about getting a buttplug to make the time more splendid,” wrote Yezen R. “He told me that the Bluetooth ones connect to your phone and showed me the app on his phone. He might’ve been wearing it then because I swore I heard a vibrating noise and no it was not my phone. I ended up purchasing the plug and let me tell you the features do not disappoint!”) Three Star makes a strange bedfellow with the Refill Shoppe next door—kind of like the it’s-a-small-world pairing of Aloha on Main and the Anglophiliac Rosie Lee Imports.

Santa Barbarans will recognize some familiar names.

According to the historical marker on the Dargan’s building, “Jack Rose […] was the first to offer Ventura County women fashionable styles ‘off the rack,'” It’s safe to say they never looked back.

I already feel out of touch with America these days, and even more so after discovering that Rocket Fizz is a franchised chain with 103 stores around the country. Which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it. I got a sugar high just from being inside—I didn’t even need to take the offer of a free piece of taffy. The potato chips in exotic flavors didn’t tempt me, either; that kind of thing was more fun before the chip companies got in on the joke. I did briefly model a Finger Hand, a.k.a. a Trump hand.

And the Love Tester was broken, but I’ve felt all of those—except “irresistable”—at some point, because so much depends on the stimulus.

Is this a thing?!

Or this?!?

Or these?!?!? The sodas vilifying dictators are a joke, but they left a foul taste, metaphorically speaking. These are awful people who have ruined countless lives. I may be overly sensitive, having recently read Hisham Matar’s lovely My Friends, but the line of sodas struck me as sophmoric and embarrassing.

You don’t have to tell me twice.

If Back Bench Pizza had been open, I would’ve made the neon sign an excuse for a bonus meal. Instead, I replaced any burned-off calories with vanilla ice cream and hot fudge at Rori’s—like being in business class, but with ice cream that’s not deep-frozen.

On my way back to the car, I made a mental note to return and check out whatever is happening in this building. (This? And/or this?)

I also passed the parking lot at S. Palm Street and Santa Clara Street where the city wants to build a “four-level and open fifth floor parking garage.” I try to avoid parking garages, having watched enough bad movies to know what terrible things can happen there, and four-plus stories would be detrimental to that part of town. Can’t people just park on the street and walk?

Apparently not. I was appalled to discover that the schmuck blocking this person’s driveway was me.

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Walk With Me…

Downtown Santa Barbara
• Downtown and a Little to the Left
↓↓↓ The Gritty Glamour of the Funk Zone
• The Upper Upper East Is Busting Out All Over
• The Presidio: In the Footsteps of Old Santa Barbara
• Brinkerhoff, Bradley, and Beyond
• Mixing Business and Pleasure in East Beach
• It’s Only Milpas Street (But I Like It)
• The Haley Corridor Is Keeping It Real
• The Small Pleasures of Bungalow Haven
• Is There a Better Neighborhood for a Stroll Than West Beach?
• E. Canon Perdido, One of Downtown’s Best Strolling Streets

Eastside
• Where the Eastside Meets the Lower Riviera

Oak Park / Samarkand
• The Side Streets and Alleyways of Upper Oak Park
• The Small-Town Charms of Samarkand

The Riviera
• The Ferrelo-Garcia Loop
• Scaling the Heights of Las Alturas
• High on the Lower Riviera

Eucalyptus Hill
• On the Golden Slope of Eucalyptus Hill
• Climbing the Back of Eucalyptus Hill

San Roque
• Amid the Saints of South San Roque
• Voyage to the Heart of the San Roque Spider Web

TV Hill / The Mesa
• Higher Education on the Mesa
• The Metamorphosis of East Mesa
• The Highs and Lows of Harbor Hills
• Walking in Circles in Alta Mesa
• West Mesa Is Still Funky After All These Years
• A Close-Up Look at TV Hill

Hidden Valley / Yankee Farm / Campanil
• Campanil is a Neighborhood in Flux
• An Aimless Wander Through Hidden Valley
• The Unvarnished Appeal of Yankee Farm

Hope Ranch / Hope Ranch Annex / Etc.
• A Country Stroll on El Sueno Road

Montecito
• East Meets West on Mountain Drive
• A Relatively Modest Montecito Enclave
• Strolling Under a Canopy of Oaks
• Out and Back on Ortega Ridge
• The Heart of Montecito Is in Coast Village
• Quintessential Montecito at Butterfly Beach
• Once Upon a Time in the Hedgerow
• Where Montecito Gets Down to Business
• In the Heart of the Golden Quadrangle
• Up, Down, and All Around Montecito’s Pepper Hill
• Montecito’s Prestigious Picacho Lane
• School House Road and Camphor Place

Summerland / Carpinteria
• On Summerland’s Western Fringe
• A Stroll in the Summerland Countryside
• Admiring the Backsides of Beachfront Houses on Padaro Lane
• Whitney Avenue in Summerland

Goleta / Isla Vista
• In the Shadow of Magnolia Center
• A Tough Nut to Crack in Goleta
• Where the Streets Have Full Names
• The Past Is Still Present in Old Town Goleta
• Social Distancing Made Easy at UCSB

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