Wed 11th: Desert Hot Springs

We travel 150 miles inland to our next destination, Desert Hot Springs. It is part of the Sonoran Desert and, with neighbouring Palm Springs, has seen much residential development since the Second World War due to its dry, pleasant winter climate. Summer’s another matter, when highs can reach over 50 centigrade (120F).

Our large campsite, Sky Valley Resort, caters mainly for resident and long-term campers but has a small number of touring pitches. This is our row, with our pitch behind the camera, looking towards the permanent chalets, with the desert mountains in the background.

Step just outside the camp perimeter and we’re straight in the desert. The whole area is criss-crossed by dirt tracks so it’s possible to walk indefinitely. This is a typical dramatic view of the sparse scrub and barren mountains. To complete the atmosphere, It really needs a lone, dusty cowboy with an Indian arrow through his hat to be galloping up from the middle distance. With Tonto at his side, of course.

But riders we had aplenty, cycle riders, coming past the camp entrance on the 100 mile Tour de Palm charity race on Valentine’s Day. Up to 10,000 entrants take part, starting from Palm Springs. These are just a few of the heroes coping with the inclines and 85 degree heat.

There is a good reason for the campsite being at this precise spot. It is directly on the San Andreas Fault which creates hot mineral water underground reservoirs that the site taps into. The water emerges at 140 degrees Fahrenheit and is cooled to 90 for the main pool and 104 for the jacuzzis. So whatever the weather, you can enjoy the water- and we did. You may, of course, wake to find that the campsite has cracked in two during the night, but everything has its price. The pools are located behind the landscaped gardens.

On one of our local desert walks we unexpectedly came across a local community centre. Unexpectedly, because we hadn’t noticed any community above a few widely scattered houses. Small community it may be, but with a friendly “welcome” sign. Immediately pulling the rug from under our feet, we spot the tree notice “NO TRESPASSING”, and then the one behind the cactus that reads “POSTED, NO TRESPASSING, KEEP OUT”. Maybe that’s why it’s a small community: you’re welcome as long as you don’t enter! 

Palm trees make good sunset silhouettes, so this photo makes a nice sign-off.

Santa Monica

Santa Monica is the nearest part of metropolitan Los Angeles to our Malibu campsite, and runs as a separate city. We visited it several times on the bus that was both frequent and cheap.

The city sets out to be an up an upmarket seaside resort and, in my view, succeeds. This is part of the wide beach, with its famous pier where Route 66 officially finished. It was 2448 miles long (Route 66, not the pier) and started in Chicago.

You can’t travel the length of the original Route 66 today because most of it has disappeared, replaced by freeways and other road improvements. In fact, the road designation was officially removed in 1985. However, it’s still part of US folklore, even to these old rockers posing outside the Route 66 visitor centre. Would they still be able to handle their kicks on Route 66, I ask myself?

The town centre gives a pleasing art deco appearance as can be seen from the pedestrianised main shopping street. 

As expected in a tourist town, there are numerous busking acts. These appeared to be of good quality, in keeping with the town’s image. The one featured below is an unusual one: dad+ two small sons combo producing some very acceptable music. 

Just to show the variety, here’s a small brass band consisting of youngsters that played sad Mexican style music, again very competently.

California is an eco state, so the LA area buses run on propane gas, as do some of the about-town cop vehicles. This one looks like a turbo charged futuristic golf cart. Perhaps the officer is allowed to use it on the golfcourse when he’s off duty.   

If you’re into snazzy design, look no further than this car park. Much more colourful than our usual UK drab concrete multi-storeys, but then maybe paying $15 a day you’d expect a designer place to park. Personally, I’ll use the free waste ground!

 Santa Monica had a good feel to it, nowhere near as brash and busy as most of LA. From here we head inland to the desert.

Mon 9th Feb: Los Angeles

Los Angeles is too big and complicated to do a self-visit, especially in the motorhome, so we decided to take a guided tour. I’ll take you round in the order we did it.

First off, the tour ran past some celebs homes in posh, well-manicured suburbs. The homes that you could see, because they were smaller, were owned by celebs we’d never heard of, and those big names that everybody knows, like Spielberg, were so set back and security fenced that they were almost invisible. Here’s an example of one we could just about make out- so perhaps the owner is just a star rather than a mega star.

Oddly, some of the big film star names of the post war period occupied relatively modest homes. Gene Kelly was a top actor, dancer, singer (Singing in the Rain) and, later, director, but you wouldn’t guess that from his house. Not that it’s at all bad, just not fabulous.

It’s only a sign, but it does say Beverley Hills. It was developed after 1914 when a group of oil prospectors, finding water instead of oil, decided to promote the area as residential. It caught on quickly with screen stars like Douglas Fairbanks, Rudolph Valentino and Charlie Chaplin moving in and building mansions. Later residents included Frank Sinatra, Elvis, Richard Nixon, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston.

The tour guide told us an amusing story about Chaplin. At the height of his fame he happened to hear of a contest to find the best Charlie Chaplin impersonator, and, for a bit of fun, decided to enter under an assumed name. He came third!

The next drive-by is The Beverley Hills Hotel on Sunset Boulevard. It has welcomed guests like the Duke & Duchess of Windsor, John Wayne, and The Beatles. For those who remember the 70’s hit Hotel California by the Eagles, this hotel featured on the album cover, but it’s unclear whether it’s the sinister hotel the lyrics refer to.

The wealthy and famous have to shop somewhere in keeping with their status. That somewhere is Rodeo Drive, right in their neighbourhood, and this is a typical section of the shopping area.

The street is full of exclusive names, the most exclusive of which is jewellers Harry Winston. Fabulous stones can also be hired for special events, unless of course you are an ‘A’ list celeb like, say, Jennifer Aniston, in which case they pay you to wear the gems in return for a mention in the right places. Winston’s looks more like a bank than a store, but then I suppose that’s what it really is.

Not actually in ultra-high class Rodeo Drive, as its appearance is more down-market, is a store that caters exclusively for adored dogs. It’s called The Bakery For Dogs. What looks like toddler clothes on the front pillar are all doggy outfits. Inside is an Aladdin’s cave of OTT stuff from pampered poochland. 

Next comes Sunset Strip, part of Sunset Boulevard, and this is where many performers launched their careers in its clubs and cabaret venues. In daylight it looks a bit garish, even sleazy. Whisky a Gogo is one of the top clubs and has featured artistes like Neil Diamond, the Byrds, the Doors etc. The guide gave us equally famous acts coming along later but the names didn’t register as I’m stuck in a 60’s (70’s at a push) musical time warp.

We drive past some studios, Paramount, Universal, Fox, but not very photogenic. The one snap I did want was Jim Henson Productions studio- that’s the Muppets- but I botched the photo by cutting off the top of Kermit’s head on the gates.

Now to the financial district, the only skyscraper area in LA. These buildings all have to be earthquake proofed by being mounted on shock absorbers. They experience slight tremors quite frequently; the last major quake was in 1994. From here on we try not to feel worried by the bus shuddering from the bumps in the road.

At the edge of the financial district is the Walt Disney Concert Hall, home of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. It’s a most unusual modern design with highly acclaimed acoustics. Not clear where the door is; in case you can’t find it, take a tin opener.  

The tour bus then went from the futuristic concert hall to the oldest building in LA. The original settlement of Los Angeles was founded in 1781, when California was part of Spanish controlled Mexico, by 11 families who built the church of Nuestra Senora de Los Angeles (our Lady of the angels),. In time, the name became shortened to Los Angeles. This is their church.

Hollywood was the last port of call. The bus dropped us on Hollywood Boulevard, on the Walk of Fame where over 2,000 stars’ names have been set in a star in the pavement. 

The square in front of the Chinese Theatre farther along the Boulevard contains cement foot and hand prints of specially selected stars like Elizabeth Taylor and Anthony Hopkins. Jane (centre top, light hat) appears to be stuck in some quick-drying cement.

And, of course, we completed with a view of the Hollywood sign. Erected in 1923 by estate agents, it originally read Hollywoodland. In 1949 the Chamber of Commerce had the sign shortened to Hollywood, and then in 1978 it was completely replaced due to deterioration. The new sign was financed by Hugh Hefner, founder of Playboy magazine, with the 45 foot high lettering we see today. Access to the sign itself is restricted following suicides by jumping off the top of the letters, which can be easily climbed via the supporting scaffolding at the back.

Phew! Apologies for the extra-long blog, but it was a long tour.

Spring 2015: West Coast USA

Tue 3^rd Feb: An Early Start

It’s 5.30 am, time to leave, and there’s 3 inches of frozen snow to scrape off the car without disturbing the neighbours.  But we got away with it: no sudden bedroom lights and irate faces at the window.

All airport journeys hold over you the threat of being late and missing your flight. This morning there’s the overnight snow in addition to the usual London area congestion. But all goes well and we arrive at Heathrow in time for some breakfast before boarding. Seated on board, there is a slight delay for de-icing the wings. The robot arm sets about its task with great thoroughness. I really should have booked one of these for our car earlier.

11½ hours later we’re in Los Angeles, 1.30pm local time and around 70ºF. An overnight hotel is obligatory before picking up the motorhome the following morning. The paperwork completed, we trundle warily out of the depot onto the busy highway…

LA is the second largest metropolis in the USA after New York, and is laid out in a grid system of wide roads with traffic lights at each intersection. These wide roads are crammed full of vehicles, so it can be slow going, but it’s easy enough to drive in except for changing lanes in a lumbering motorhome. The 45 mile journey to our Malibu campsite takes longer than planned and we arrive ok just after dark.

Next day is sunny and warm. It puts a good slant on everything. The site is about 200 feet up so a nice elevated position for overlooking the Ocean and this is Jane doing some overlooking from our pitch.

Taking it easy on our first day, we sat watching dolphins and looking for whales. They migrate en mass at this time of the year, travelling along the coast from Alaska to Mexico. Some pelicans were fishing and then flying past the campsite, but the real stars were the hummingbirds. It seems the red flowers that make our hedge are their favourites, so we were treated to an enchanting spectacle of them flitting back and fore.

Behind the campsite is the 250 square mile Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. It contains some 500 miles of walking trails, a few directly from this campsite. We took one of these into nearby Coral Canyon and then on to a viewpoint, but walking rather carefully. See below: they are lurking!

We were invited by some French Canadian neighbours to join them on a tour of the Santa Monica Mountains. On leaving the main road we quickly ran into beautiful wild canyon country, dotted sparsely with farms and vineyards. There are even a few bears and mountain lion here but, like the whales, you are more likely to imagine seeing one than in reality .

This is an example of the views from the twisty but well surfaced roads. The road eventually dropped down into LA suburbs and then quickly back into urban congestion.

Our first impression of California is favourable: lovely scenery, great climate. The pace of life seems quicker than back east but maybe that’s due to big city LA that we’re so close to. The site itself is good, with lovely sunsets. We’ll be looking at LA itself in the next blog.

July 1st: The Black Forest

After an overnight stop at Nuremburg, we arrive at Lake Titisee. There’s also a small town of that name at the opposite end of the lake to the camp site. The site is at the lakeside, in terraces, so each pitch has a view of the water, trees permitting. The trees aren’t permitting you to see our caravan. 

There is a lovely lakeside walk to the town on a wide, well surfaced path. Titisee itself is very commercialised but pleasant for all that, and its many cafes do good coffee and kuchen, with a splendid outlook as in the photo.

The tripper boat on the right glides around the lake powered by an electric motor so that the environment isn’t polluted. We can vouch for that as we did the cruise and we weren’t polluted or even electrocuted. The majority of visitors in the town are of the older age group, so we fit in here comfortably.

Until the 1920’s much of the central Black Forest was isolated from the outside world so tourism is of fairly recent origin. In fact, many of the old tracks and trails have been turned into a highly organised network of footpaths that attracts many hikers, and to show we weren’t totally in the old fogies camp just yet, we did walk the 4 ½ miles around the lake.

We also paid a visit to Freiburg, the “Capital of the Black Forest”. The city considers itself as much Austrian as German since the region was under the protection and therefore influence of the Austrian Habsburg Empire for 450 years.

It’s certainly a splendid city that suffered a relatively small amount of war damage, from a single air raid, in 1944. The large cathedral, dating from about 1200, is especially magnificent. It is made of dark red sandstone and, as with many large buildings in ancient towns, it’s almost impossible to snap a view that does it justice, not only because of the press of other buildings but here in the Munster Square there is also a big market and several marquees all fighting for space. The central tower was the best I could do, and even that is partly hidden by scaffolding. The church interior was closed for renovation.

Some attractive buildings elsewhere, too, like the theatre.

This is one of the old town fortified towers that blends in beautifully with the later style buildings, but maybe not so well with the Pedestrian Zone sign.

The streets even retain the open gutters of the ancient sewerage system. Only water runs through them these days, although it was a shame that I hadn’t got the caravan toilet to empty so as to check that the system was still fully functional.

As can be seen, the streets in the old town are cobbled and there are many alleyways and little courtyards that make it an interesting town to explore at random.

Some of the later buildings, probably 1920’s, had some interesting carvings as for example the Pan figure flanked by two bare-breasted maidens who could almost be having mobile phones conversations. 

It is ironic that these scantilly clad females are fronting a building occupied by the Salvation Army (the two red shields between the figures), but then perhaps it advertises their willingness to guide such women back onto the straight and narrow.

We have been in Titisee for a week: a very relaxing, if rather wet, week. Tomorrow, 9^th July, we head for home, but are calling in on Adam and Alison first for the weekend.