Song of Cambria, California

I had heard of Cambria when I first came out to California. A colleague was headed here for a vacation. But it was quickly lost in the flow of other coastal and inland cities’ names, a list that seems to expand the longer I am here. So when I saw that it lay on the PCH just above San Luis Obispo, I was pleased, and when I realized that I would be rolling in just before sunset, I was happy. I rarely travel at night on a blue highways journey because the idea is to see things, not cover distance, and it allows me to get into a town and explore it a little before the sun goes down–and after.Cambria is a small tourist town on inland side of the PCH, but there are lovely and small residential homes along the coast without a store in sight and with plenty of coastal access, and a terrific trail just outside the town. Main street is an interesting collection of restaurants, markets, galleries, and real estate offices. It is touristy, but it is understated, and it feels like a place you could live, especially since the residential area is across the PCH and adjacent to the coast. You couldn’t have planned a coastal village any better in my opinion. Actually, I’m not a big fan of coastal villages. What passes for a coastal village in Florida and the Atlantic southeast is usually a thinly veiled mall not unlike the simulated village I encountered when I was looking for main street. But amidst the tourist stuff, there is life here. Of course it helped that I walked up the ridge from Main Street and headed toward the coast. I passed through residential areas and got to see people’s lives, as I like to do on trips like this. I saw the houses that weren’t on the coastal side of the PCH, and they could have been houses in Farmville, Virginia or Escalante, Utah. They were quiet, unassuming, and a little shabby. I liked them very much.Returning from a good five- or six-mile walk, I decided to get my lap top and head for the nearest coffee shop. It’s a cool little place, and I can walk from my motel.  But I enter and the dude tells me that they’re closing. So I go back to my hotel, get Penelope, and decide that it’s a sign that I should go see the sunset in Cambria, California. I drive over to the residential section and find a coastal access point just as Sol is touching the flat horizon of the Pacific. He’s gorgeous, and there are a handful of other people there recording the event on their video cameras. We nod silently, acknowledging, I think, the sacred moment that occurs everyday but is still magical, especially at a small village on the Pacific.Penelope and I roll in to the Cambria Cappuccino, but the woman there doesn’t really understand the idea of a coffee shop. She wants $3 to get onto the wireless network, and as she tells me this, she kicks a couple of people off the desktop computers whose time is up. She’s timing it with an egg timer. I pass on the wireless and decide to try to write a blog post on the desktop, but CNN is blaring so loudly and talking about such silly things that I can’t concentrate. I get up and head back to the motel and watch LSU beat Florida. I haven’t’ watched TV in months, and I feel like I need a shower afterwards. I’m struck by the deluge of unadulterated crap that flows through the screen, whether it is the inane comments by the announcers (”A coach makes decisions that affect the game.”) or the commercials, which are shameless, especially since I haven’t experienced them for several months.I am happy to be here in this little town, and it is good to be exploring a California that I haven’t seen before. I plan to come back here sometime. But in the morning, the road calls, and the wanderlust returns.