Looking Sideways

As we prepare for leaving on a jet plane, it's easy to lose sight of the beauties of the journey by getting caught up in the details of travel: how much currency should we exchange? do I need the bathing suit? are the adapter and the converter one item, or two distinct implements? are there ATMs in Bonnieux?

My husband and I travel quite often, and have become experts in packing for intra-continental trips. In fact, its rare that we are packing prior to 2am the night before we leave. Yet Europe has rendered me somewhat of a befuddled fool. So to avoid the temptation to descend into panic, or to pack every item of clothing and electronics I own, I will look back on a trip we took last month, and see if it can give me inspiration.

It was a trip of a manageable size - a weekend, specifically - when my husband, his father and the dog - it a word, our entire local family - took off for Santa Barbara. It was a birthday trip for my father-in-law, who had lived there years earlier, but had never explored the wine region of the Central Coast. So weekend bags and dog bed in hand (or in trunk, technically speaking), we hit the road up the coast.





The weather was gorgeous - perfect for enjoying the beauty that is the San Ysidro Valley, and all the vineous bounty it has to offer.

We started off, going winery to winery, Sideways style. Well, minus the debauchery and womanizing.

After sampling some local wares, we settled down for a pre-packed picnic, overlooking a valley. The sun shone, a hawk flew by, my dog got himself a girlfriend (ok, so maybe there was some womanizing). We were, as my FIL said, "In God's country."





As the day drew to a close, we stopped at an ostrich farm. Drunk from the beauty, the heat and, well, the drink, we descended on the fields of ostriches, grazing blissfully as the sun sank behind them. Robert (the FIL) somehow talked the attendant into letting all of us, including the dog - who was now a "labrador mix," not a pit bull - out back to feed the giant birds.






It only lasted a few minutes, but looking back on the trip, I think not to the planning, not to the packing, not even to the wine. But to the image of a 60+-year-old man, laughing blissfully, as he feeds ostriches for the first time in his life.