Notes From Up North

“Are you going to write about this trip?” asked my husband’s stepmother, Cathie, soon after we arrived in the Sonoma County town of Healdsburg. No, I replied, because we weren’t going to be in any one place for very long, and maybe it’d be nice to not be working…? And then I took a solo walk around the town, started noticing stuff and having opinions, and here we are.

The main point of the trip was Mendocino, but Adam and I figured that Cathie and her boyfriend, Steve, would probably not relish a three-and-a-half-hour drive right after the flying in from the East Coast. Adam and I don’t have a lot of experience in Napa or Sonoma wine country, so we turned to the list of hotels I’ve read about and think I might want to stay at someday. We landed on The Madrona, the main building of which is a marvelous 1881 Victorian (above). The entry gate isn’t too shabby, either.

The design is fun but poured on a bit thick in the common areas—a building this beautiful doesn’t need gilding. But our top-floor room was calmer and comfortable, the front porch was a delightful spot for a drink, and dinner in the restaurant was very good.

If I were going to spend more than one night in the area, I might prefer somewhere walkable to town. Centered on a pretty plaza with tall, lush trees, Healdsburg is a sweet place to stroll. Vintage architecture is the star; here’s hoping the semi-industrial look creeping in doesn’t alter the mood over time.

Our visit coincided with the farmers’ market in peak season. Can I just say once again how glad I am that ours doesn’t include crafts?

I love the idea of an “infamous skating rink,” but the meager research that I did leads me to believe that the rink was more famous than infamous, a common mistake these days. And while I hate cheap-looking signs like the “no idling” one, the sentiment is a winner. People sitting in their cars with the engine on, especially in temperate Santa Barbara weather, drive me bananas. I doubt this sign persuades anyone, though.

Speaking of cheap signage, look how elegantly Healdsburg has solved the situation that Santa Barbara currently faces.

Quail & Condor bakery is an eight-minute walk from the square, and worth every step. I ate the pain au chocolat on the way back, and by the end, I looked like I had been flogged with pastry.

Onward to Mendocino, one of my favorite places on Earth. Adam and I have been twice, and it remains as magical as ever, even in gray weather. The town feels like Brigadoon, with off-the-charts architectural whimsy and edenic landscaping. On my initial visit in 2017, I spent the first two hours thinking that I needed to move there, and by the third hour I realized that I could never—it’s too insular and too damp, and I’m not a pothead, which is surely a prerequisite. That said, I find the place endlessly explorable.

Just look at this fence!

Is the piece of wood is meant to function as a ladder?

45320 Ukiah Street is for sale (but in escrow). Inside is as good as you’d hope.

The commercial buildings are fabulous, too.

It should all feel impossibly twee—exteriors for “Murder, She Wrote” were filmed there—and yet there’s just enough weirdness to spike the punch. Take this bench in the middle of nowhere, or the fact that ravens are all around.

Of course there’s a place to learn the circus arts…

…and an honor-system ceramic shop along the sidewalk.

The wall of flyers mainly advertises the kind of services and events you’d expect—with one outlier.

And the bluffs! They’re right behind the town, with paths that lead through blackberry brambles and right up to the edge. The day we were there, a guy and his dog got stuck on a steep slope and had to be rescued by firefighters on jet skis (which, now that I think about it, sounds rather glamorous and maybe even romantic).

We stayed once again at Blue Door Inn, an Inns of Mendocino property. It’s kind of like a fancier B&B—the only amenities are breakfast, housekeeping, and a nightly wine-and-cheese reception. (Our room, pictured below, had normal ceilings in the non-bed part.) I had recalled breakfast with fondness: the picnic basket delivered to your door included four jars of food per guest, along with coffee, juice, and a baked good. This time, there were just two jars and a baked good, and one morning the hot dish was a biscuit in sausage gravy. I just can’t imagine a lot of people were excited to see it.

No matter, the Waiting Room café/bar was just around the corner. It quickly became my spot—the coffee, pastries, and vibe were excellent. Our two dinners in town were at the Waiting Room’s sister establishment, Café Beaujolais (not as terrific as we remembered, in part because we were asked to give up our table after an hour and 45 minutes), and Trillium Café. Food isn’t really the point of Mendocino.

In fact, our most memorable meal was in nearby Fort Bragg. Adam and I had gone off to explore on our own, and we ended up at David’s. David was the name of Adam’s late father, so it felt like a sign—especially when we sat at the counter and looked above the kitchen doorway. I’m not going to oversell the place. It’s a diner, complete with opportunity to order salisbury steak. And yet we loved the theater of it, watching the staff do their job with efficiency while also chatting up the guests, and everyone knew everyone.

Before lunch, we visited Russian Gulch State Park, notable for more bluff walking, a collapsed sea cave called the Devil’s Punch Bowl, and a sensational view of Russian Gulch Bridge.

We also walked out to the Point Cabrillo Light Station. Lighthouses can now join caves and waterfalls on the list of things I don’t need to see more of. I was intrigued, however, by the idea of renting one of the handful of houses and cottages on the premises, although the park opens at 6 a.m. so the isolation might not be all that splendid.

From Mendocino, the four of us took State Route 128 back to the 101, stopping at Hendy Woods State Park for a walk amid the redwoods. We had actually intended to go to Navarro River Redwoods State Park, but the effect of being dwarfed by giants was the same. And Hendy Woods has a sasquatch in the ranger station, which made those of us who have attempted to watch Sasquatch Sunset giggle a bit. (That is so not a recommendation.) Also, a warning about feral pigs added a frisson to the excursion.

If you’re in the area and crave something besides burgers and barbecue, Diavola Pizzeria in Geyserville, is a good bet.

Adam and I had thought that Mendocino would be the highlight of the trip for Cathie and Steve, but we had forgotten what an impact the Four Seasons Hotel San Francisco at Embarcadero makes. The hotel is on floors 38 to 48 of a Financial District skyscraper, with transfixing views. Last time we stayed there, I thought the interiors were looking shabby, and while they may have been freshened up, it’s all still a bit Room & Board. But we paid just $660 per room via American Express, which included all taxes and fees, free breakfast daily, and $100 food-and-beverage credits. That’s a steal.

When Adam and I go to cities, we focus on the kind of food we can’t get in Santa Barbara, such as Korean barbecue. But San Ho Won is a far more sophisticated restaurant than that description implies. I’d like to return soon for more of the scallion-and-mountain yam pancake, soufflé with anchovy broth, and the extraordinary galbi. We tried to explain to Cathie and Steve that their first experience with Korean food was likely to be their best.

After Cathie and Steve headed off to their next destination, Adam and I had one more day in the city. To be honest, I struggle with what to do in San Francisco anymore. (Besides eating, of course.) I don’t care that much about museums, and the shops have never held much appeal. So we walked around the Marina District, a neighborhood I hadn’t been to in decades. It’s probably not where I’d choose to live, despite the charms of a pretty flower shop and a salon with a wonderful name.

If I were to move to the Marina, however, I’d want a corner house.

And also landscaping that creeps out onto the sidewalk and/or includes a poodle-cut tree.

We continued on to the Presidio, which can be broadly described as a military base converted into a giant park, and where I had never been. The views of the Golden Gate Bridge are fantastic, and the park is definitely a sweet amenity for people who live nearby. The experience got Adam looking at potential pieds-à-terre in nearby Pacific Heights.

Friends had recommended Kantine for lunch, but the premade sandwiches were less appealing than the “table numbers” featuring notable women. We had better luck at their other suggestion, Loquat, where we enjoyed slices of chocolate cake with espresso buttercream and pistachio and vanilla crumb cake.

The city’s grit had struck us as much improved—at least till we looked across the street at Rich Table, where we were having dinner that night, and saw that its front windows had been smashed. By that evening, it was all fixed. And the food was terrific.

And I’d be remiss not to mention Waymo—the self-driving taxis were a major hit with Cathie and Steve. Adam and I, however, were less enamored than in the past. The cars were dirtier, and on one occasion, we were dropped off three blocks from our hotel, with no explanation.

I don’t think I’m ready to give up on Waymo entirely, though, especially after the 20-minute monologue—semi-intelligible and nonstop—by our exuberant Uber driver home from Santa Barbara Airport. If I were to mention where he is from, I imagine some of you might know who I’m talking about….

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Previous travel coverage:
••• There’s More to Peru Than Machu Picchu
••• On a Backroads Tour of New Zealand’s South Island
••• Navigating the North Island of New Zealand
••• Don’t Be So Quick to Write Off Phoenix
••• The Most Magical City in the World
↓↓↓ One and Done in Sedona
••• A Proper Visit to Santa Monica
••• A Quickie in San Francisco
••• Dipping a Toe Into Southern Corsica
••• The Exquisite Luxury of Taking Paris for Granted
••• Santa Rosa Island in One Day
••• Soaking Up History at Castle Hot Springs
••• Driving Through the Heart of Hokkaido
••• Tokyo Is a World Unto Itself
••• Paso Robles, Pinnacles National Park, and Beyond
••• A Review of the Inn at Mattei’s Tavern
••• Another Quickie in L.A.
••• Sitting Pretty at the One & Only Mandarina
••• The Mysteries of Istanbul
••• Palm Springs: Midweek at the Oasis
••• Exploring the Sea Caves of Santa Cruz Island
••• A Summer Swing Through the Northeast
••• Why Is Everyone Going to Portugal?
••• Patagonia Made Easy
••• A Quickie in L.A.
••• From Penthouse to Pavement in Mexico City
••• Do Greek Islands Live Up to the Fantasy?
••• Splendid Isolation at Utah’s Lodge at Blue Sky
••• Three Reasons to Visit Paso Robles Now

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