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Final Lap around Northern California
Some vacations are meant for exploring new realms, others for savoring the comforts of familiar territory.
For the past decade and a half, we have returned to Northern California with a regularity that is almost rhythmic.
This unusual positioning has allowed us quick access during multiple trips to nearby cities, mountains, coasts, valleys and wine countries.
Our friend, however, is moving back to Texas for romantic reasons. We can hardly disapprove, but we’ll miss that suburban home he turned into a sort of resort spa, as well as a base for venturing out into one of the world’s most multifarious regions.
So in October, we returned to the San Ramon Valley for one last Indian summer, the time when Northern California ripens to its finest glory under sunny, mild skies. Instead of branching out to new frontiers, we made a valedictory lap from San Francisco to the fertile valleys east, and then north through wine regions to the upper coast and back again.
That was Day 1.
Planning for the next step, we had faced a choice: From the San Ramon Valley, we could have headed south, east, west or north in order to revisit cherished Northern California destinations.
The southern route would have reproduced the pleasures of the Monterrey Bay Aquarium; the campy-fun Madonna Motel in San Luis Obispo; the campy-scary Hearst Castle; the Central Coast wine region (popularized by the movie “Sideways”); and perhaps even Santa Barbara, Cal., which lies, properly, in Southern California.
West (roughly) would mean more time in the Bay Area cities: Oakland and Berkeley for sure, besides San Francisco, maybe San Jose and environs, also the Beach Chalet, Cliff House and the Pacific beaches, or a jump over the bay to Saulsalito, Muir Woods and Muir Beach.
We chose north instead.
From Dublin, Calif., the Napa Valley is a straight shot up Interstate 680 and across the wide Sacramento River lowlands. Napa has changed a lot since our first visits, but we stopped at an old friend, Mumm Napa, for not one, but three toasts of their bubblies ($18 for a flight of three). Then we crossed over the valley for silly treat, a visit to the 107-room Castel del Amaroso, a convincing replica of a Tuscan castle that could — and has — served as the location for a Disney movie. In the cellars, we tasted some decent reds ($17), then we picnicked in a hidden grove by a dainty pond borrowed from an English novel.
That night, we ate at Bouchon, chef Thomas Keller’s down-market restaurant that’s every bit as inventive as his pricier French Laundry down the street in tony Yountsville, Calif. The meal was magnificent and the 2008 Etude pinot noir from the Carneros region of southern Napa Valley proved superior to anything we tasted during the day (the meal ran $100 a person with wine and tip).
We overnighted at a Motel 6 in nondescript Rohnert Park, then headed up the gorgeous Dry Creek Valley, aiming for the even more ravishing Anderson Valley. In the first vale, we stopped at an extravagant chateau surrounded by landscaping that would make any drought-stricken Austinite weep. Here we tried the sturdy selections from Ferrari Carano, a winery built on hotel and casino money that earnestly shoots for the high end, without always hitting the target ($15, comped back if one buys from the shop above).
That night we splurged on the Little River Inn, a 1939 resort with big rooms and spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean from shared terraces ($175). We bundled in blankets to watch the sun and the moon set, then the next morning we read quietly as the sea turned a hundred shades of sapphire.
Time to head down the Pacific Coast Highway. This was my fifth or sixth time on this iconic, winding, cliff-side road and I was no less terrified than during the previous ventures. A break at the lovely Timber Cove Inn calmed my nerves, but I had best call this the last time I’ll blink through tensed fingers at the stupendous natural beauty.
The next morning, it was time head back to San Ramon. We brunched on fat omelettes at Buck’s ($15 per person), tarried at several wineries and wine shops, including a cave of spiky pinot noirs at Thomas George Estates, surprising upper-end cabernet sauvignons at populist Rodney Strong and the theatrical merriment of Williamson Wines, run by outgoing Australians Dawn and Bill Williamson, in downtown Healdsburg, Calif. another town quaintified almost to distraction.
California is not cheap. We saved some money on our four-day road trip up the valleys by eating at restaurants only twice. We ended our bucolic sojourn at the suburban lair we’ve called “Resort Chez Paul,” after our chef-host, Paul Talley.
Note to Paul.: Part of us is delighted you are returning to our state. Now we can show you around. Things have changed here, too, often but not always for the better. Another part of us will miss all those vivid jaunts north, south, east and west of your sweet retreat in peerless Northern California.
Photos by Paul Tally
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By Franco in California
November 2, 2011 3:07 PM | Link to this
To Michael Barnes: Good column on Northern California. Thanks for the travel tips, and for the photos. Hope this recent trip is not your last one.
You mention that your California friend has moved to Texas for romantic reasons. Oh, how ... well, romantic. There is hope for the world when people up and move to another state purely for romance.