Santa Cruz Nice
Now, when someone mentions Santa Cruz, I too will get that soft, smiley look on my face. I felt at home here from the start. Santa Cruz has that Vashon Island feel: a slower pace, a distinct local culture, plenty of small funky houses, an active art scene, and coffee on every corner. The difference between the two is more a case of addition than subtraction. Santa Cruz has surfer dudes, bare legs/feet, sunny days, lots more restaurants, off-kilter residents who are inclined to rant, gesture, and mumble, and a bus system that takes them and you anywhere.
Last year we were in Minnesota expecting to feel and see that "Minnesota Nice"...didn't happen for me. But here in Santa Cruz, every expedition I took out the door provided another example of California courtesy.
One day on my way to the beach, a bicycle-riding, ranting, gesturing, tattered man rode by shouting at me. Following Bob's instructions to "never make eye contact", I just walked along and ignored him. Walking toward me, a tall, young man asked, "Is that man bothering you? Don't pay any attention to him, he has issues" and waited with me until the ranter was down the block.
Regardless of age, religion, gender, race, sexual persuasion, or political party, every time I entered a crosswalk, busy car traffic stopped, made eye contact, and gestured for me to walk on through, then smiled. Now before we get all warm and fuzzy about Santa Cruzarians: also without exception, anyone on a bicycle, skateboard, in-line skates, or scooter completely ignored me and whizzed perilously by, without warning. Apparently they aren't required to sign the pledge.
Anyways, I loved Pie Ranch, Sunny Cove, the Aloha Island Grill, Gayle's Bakery, East Cliff Drive, Capitola Village, Mr. Kebab, the Fairfield Inn housekeepers, the Museum of Art and History, the #55 bus, the New Leaf Organic Grocery, the Pleasure Point surfers, Half Moon Bay, fish tacos at Johnny's Harborside, and walking in the sunshine.
So we've returned to the Northwest—back to winter, rain, and home. We've been catching up with family, visiting with our neighbors, sorting through the mail, sleeping in our own bed, cooking meals, washing clothes without scrounging quarters, and looking out more than one window. Bob misses the hot tub, I miss ice cubes at the end of the hall, clean sheets three times a week, sunny weather, a bus that stops at the front door, a free newspaper, the sweet housekeeping staff, and having no responsibility.
We don't miss the hotel's erratic heating/cooling system, the lack of hot water in the morning, living in one room, eating out, Bob's 4:45 am wake-up call, using the bathroom for a kitchen, or the thump, thump of children running up and down the hall. I'd gladly live in Capitola but certainly don't want to move.
Homes along the Santa Cruz harbor


Santa Cruz Harbor

The Yacht Club on Woods Lagoon

The view from Johnny's Harborside restaurant
The following pictures are examples of Santa Cruz weird. Don't know who, why, or what's up with the heads. Cindy, from the Santa Cruz Art League, said the artist who makes them has been populating his roof and windows with different faces for years.



The "climbing wall" on the side of a bakery along the harbor

Last year we were in Minnesota expecting to feel and see that "Minnesota Nice"...didn't happen for me. But here in Santa Cruz, every expedition I took out the door provided another example of California courtesy.
One day on my way to the beach, a bicycle-riding, ranting, gesturing, tattered man rode by shouting at me. Following Bob's instructions to "never make eye contact", I just walked along and ignored him. Walking toward me, a tall, young man asked, "Is that man bothering you? Don't pay any attention to him, he has issues" and waited with me until the ranter was down the block.
Regardless of age, religion, gender, race, sexual persuasion, or political party, every time I entered a crosswalk, busy car traffic stopped, made eye contact, and gestured for me to walk on through, then smiled. Now before we get all warm and fuzzy about Santa Cruzarians: also without exception, anyone on a bicycle, skateboard, in-line skates, or scooter completely ignored me and whizzed perilously by, without warning. Apparently they aren't required to sign the pledge.
Anyways, I loved Pie Ranch, Sunny Cove, the Aloha Island Grill, Gayle's Bakery, East Cliff Drive, Capitola Village, Mr. Kebab, the Fairfield Inn housekeepers, the Museum of Art and History, the #55 bus, the New Leaf Organic Grocery, the Pleasure Point surfers, Half Moon Bay, fish tacos at Johnny's Harborside, and walking in the sunshine.
So we've returned to the Northwest—back to winter, rain, and home. We've been catching up with family, visiting with our neighbors, sorting through the mail, sleeping in our own bed, cooking meals, washing clothes without scrounging quarters, and looking out more than one window. Bob misses the hot tub, I miss ice cubes at the end of the hall, clean sheets three times a week, sunny weather, a bus that stops at the front door, a free newspaper, the sweet housekeeping staff, and having no responsibility.
We don't miss the hotel's erratic heating/cooling system, the lack of hot water in the morning, living in one room, eating out, Bob's 4:45 am wake-up call, using the bathroom for a kitchen, or the thump, thump of children running up and down the hall. I'd gladly live in Capitola but certainly don't want to move.
Homes along the Santa Cruz harbor


Santa Cruz Harbor

The Yacht Club on Woods Lagoon

The view from Johnny's Harborside restaurant
The following pictures are examples of Santa Cruz weird. Don't know who, why, or what's up with the heads. Cindy, from the Santa Cruz Art League, said the artist who makes them has been populating his roof and windows with different faces for years.



The "climbing wall" on the side of a bakery along the harbor





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