Get off the floor you silly boy, and don't get any blood on
the steps!
San Jose -> Santa Barbara, 12th November 2001.
I woke up quite early, surrounded by a partially deflated plastic
bed. Stinge and I were up and ready long before the girls even
though about stirring. But almost as soon as the girls were ready,
Rose & Lee served us up a huge, delicious breakfast. We quickly dove
in, consuming the huge spread before us. While we ate, we chatted
about the news and American baseball. Why, in a competition that
only Americans & Canadians can play, is the competition called the
World Series? Strange.
The day had started with the heavens opening and rain filling the
streets. As we drove to the station we had to negotiate roads that
had become rivers. The drainage system is pretty poor here, it can
handle light rain, but any sudden downpours turn San Jose into
Venice. Luckily, with the aid of the mighty SUV (Sports Utility
Vehicle) and a few umbrellas, we made it to the train station more
or less dry.
The train arrived just under an hour later, shortly after the rain
stopped. We hurried along the platform and quickly boarded the huge
train heading south. As I got on, I turned round to see Stinge fall
heavily after tripping over the big steel steps. He fell forward,
hard, and scraped his shin painfully down the step. The guard, I
won't call him an attendant, because he definitely wasn't being
that, watched blankly as Stinge squirmed in agony. He didn't even
flinch to try to help him. If anything, his look said "Get off the
floor you silly boy, and don't get any blood on the steps." Luckily,
Stinge managed to hobble his way up the steps to our seats. After
rolling his trouser leg up, he found a huge gash running up his
shin, and the scar is still with him today!
The journey was very peaceful with some good views of the coast. We
also wound our way through some valleys, and at one point, we passed
through a huge horse-shoe curve, which meant we could see the front
& the back of the train at the same time. We tried our best to get
coast side seats, however, this meant that a small boy (taking up 2
seats) had to move over to the other side and sit with his mum. As
he'd been forced to move, the little boy started crying noisily. So
in an attempt to turn his mood, we offered him our last cookie,
which he took happily. And, unexpectedly, in exchange he gave me a
crayon drawing of a dolphin that he'd done! Awwwhhh! How sweet!
 Soon enough, we reached the small station at Santa Barbara, and I
started making the accommodation phone calls. However, using the
phone numbers in my rough guide, I kept having problems. Most of
them were engaged or there was no answer, and the one that did get
through, gives a strange reply. All I got is a young girl saying 'Que?'
in a heavy Mexican accent on the other end. I assumed it was a wrong
number and tried again. However, I got the same 'Que?'. This time, I
tried to explain that I was looking for a hotel, but the girl didn't
speak any English, so I soon gave up.
As some of the hotels were quite close, Em & I decided to take a
walk and check out a few places. Nat was feeling a bit sick, and
Stinge was injured, so we left them with our bags while we set out
on our trek.
Santa Barbara is a quiet, medium-sized town. It has a lovely
atmosphere because most of the buildings are clean & new looking and
they all have a whitewashed stone effect. It has real character and
you feel like you're in a stereotypical Mexican town. It's like a
tropical version of our home town of Gosport. We wandered along the
main street, looking for number 1100. But after taking 30 minutes to
get from 400 to 600, we changed our mind and turned back, checking
the side-streets for motels & hotels.
We got back to Stinge & Nat about an hour after leaving them, to
find them giving us very dirty looks. They claimed that we didn't
tell them we'd gone hunting for accommodation and they thought we'd
be back after 10 minutes. Where did they think we going? To the
pizza place at the end of the road. After we'd calmed them down a
bit, we gave them the options. We'd narrowed the choice down to a
nearer, more expensive, communal shower option, or a farther,
cheaper, personal bathroom option. We decided on the 2nd option.
Although on our first expectation, we'd found the motel to be very
average, if not slightly below, the room turned out to be pretty
good. It was of average size, pretty clean and it had full
facilities: TV, microwave, fridge, en-suite etc, so we were more
than happy.
We had a quiet evening, only heading out to get a bite to eat (the
drinking age is 21). Stinge settled on a place called Fatburger,
which actually did some very tasty burgers, while the rest of us
chose to eat at a small Mexican place called Chilangos. If you're
ever in Santa Barbara, pay this place a visit. It serves fantastic
burritos, tortillas and nachos, all absolutely delicious and served
in huge portions. After a huge & delicious burrito, we headed back
to our hotel. Before I left, I said the only Spanish word I knew to
the guy working there: 'Gracias', and he seemed really chuffed that
I'd taken the trouble!
We took a winding route back to the hotel, to get a good look at the
city centre. However, it was all closed up, and the city is quite
small, so we didn't spend long on this expedition.
After watching some classic, cheesy 1980s TV (Superman IV: The Quest
For Peace) we all dozed off.
Next diary entry >>
|
