Whew! That was fun!
Once all the wedding food eating, dancing and prancing was done, and the couple, Andrew and Katerina in flight to Hawaii; we all rested for a day in Santa Cruz.
Those who had planes to catch (for destinations other than to Hawaii), had already departed while I packed the wife and our collective clothing for a set of adventures I had mapped out for the second leg of the journey. I had several things in mind for my return to Northern California.
However, I had not planned the details of this Monday's lunch, as that would be a road trip that was way too tightly laced. This is about spontaneity. This was a short travel day, time was not of the essence, so the proverbial 'scenic route' was in order. I go north on Highway 1.
I had a passenger now, but you wouldn't have noticed, except for the occasional nasal breathing emanating from slumped mound of chestnut hair to my right. She slept through most of the morning's scenic Highway 1 and she kept on California dreaming as I stopped and started through the streets of San Francisco. She awoke from her slumbers about the time I reached The Presidio at the southern approach to the Golden Gate Bridge. We crossed the Golden Gate and spontaneously took a turn into the viewing area in Marin County at the north end of the span. The parking area was much expanded from the time when I used to live about 25 miles north of here in the 1960's - and it was much more crowded to boot. We found a parking place and squeezed in shoulder-to-shoulder with all of the other tourist to get a photo or two, only I had a real camera and not a selfie-stick to do the trick. After peering through the gossamer veil of fog-filtered light at gleaming alabaster city of San Francisco across the bay, we drove on north. During our brief stop we had reached a plan for lunch during.
One of the salient points of the many pleasant memories I have of living in Novato, is the memory of "The Cheese Factory". Gourmet Marin County Cheese is now distributed at least as far as hoity toity grocers in Dallas and presumably beyond; but back then, it was just The Cheese Factory outside of town on the family's way to Stinson Beach. When I was a kid, it always seemed like the cheese factory at the T in the road was the better part of day's journey away. This trip I checked the odometer - and true to the general theory of relativity, space and time are linked: What I once knew as a far away point that took hours to reach, turns out to be 7 miles from town. Interesting how space has contracted over the last 50 years.
The space/time continuum not withstanding - some things had certainly changed in my former home town of Novato, although I had zero problems navigating back to the cheese factory. I could to this day draw a detailed map of the streets in Novato and give them their proper names.
We had tucked inside our travel cooler a few grapes, some salami and a few bottles of water. My brilliant plan was to buy cheese at the cheese factory and supplement it with our other vittles in the back. A nostalgic feast for me, and a golden opportunity for my cheese-making and fermented dairy affectionanato traveling companion.
We selected three cheeses from the cheese shop and plunked our butts onto a provided picnic table beside the pond and had a gourmet lunch and even some left over cheese for later camp meals.
It was a pleasant and pleasing cheesing in Marin County.
Once all the wedding food eating, dancing and prancing was done, and the couple, Andrew and Katerina in flight to Hawaii; we all rested for a day in Santa Cruz.
Those who had planes to catch (for destinations other than to Hawaii), had already departed while I packed the wife and our collective clothing for a set of adventures I had mapped out for the second leg of the journey. I had several things in mind for my return to Northern California.
However, I had not planned the details of this Monday's lunch, as that would be a road trip that was way too tightly laced. This is about spontaneity. This was a short travel day, time was not of the essence, so the proverbial 'scenic route' was in order. I go north on Highway 1.
I had a passenger now, but you wouldn't have noticed, except for the occasional nasal breathing emanating from slumped mound of chestnut hair to my right. She slept through most of the morning's scenic Highway 1 and she kept on California dreaming as I stopped and started through the streets of San Francisco. She awoke from her slumbers about the time I reached The Presidio at the southern approach to the Golden Gate Bridge. We crossed the Golden Gate and spontaneously took a turn into the viewing area in Marin County at the north end of the span. The parking area was much expanded from the time when I used to live about 25 miles north of here in the 1960's - and it was much more crowded to boot. We found a parking place and squeezed in shoulder-to-shoulder with all of the other tourist to get a photo or two, only I had a real camera and not a selfie-stick to do the trick. After peering through the gossamer veil of fog-filtered light at gleaming alabaster city of San Francisco across the bay, we drove on north. During our brief stop we had reached a plan for lunch during.
 |
| A translucent San Francisco |
One of the salient points of the many pleasant memories I have of living in Novato, is the memory of "The Cheese Factory". Gourmet Marin County Cheese is now distributed at least as far as hoity toity grocers in Dallas and presumably beyond; but back then, it was just The Cheese Factory outside of town on the family's way to Stinson Beach. When I was a kid, it always seemed like the cheese factory at the T in the road was the better part of day's journey away. This trip I checked the odometer - and true to the general theory of relativity, space and time are linked: What I once knew as a far away point that took hours to reach, turns out to be 7 miles from town. Interesting how space has contracted over the last 50 years.
The space/time continuum not withstanding - some things had certainly changed in my former home town of Novato, although I had zero problems navigating back to the cheese factory. I could to this day draw a detailed map of the streets in Novato and give them their proper names.
 |
| Selecting a 3-cheese lunch |
We had tucked inside our travel cooler a few grapes, some salami and a few bottles of water. My brilliant plan was to buy cheese at the cheese factory and supplement it with our other vittles in the back. A nostalgic feast for me, and a golden opportunity for my cheese-making and fermented dairy affectionanato traveling companion.
We selected three cheeses from the cheese shop and plunked our butts onto a provided picnic table beside the pond and had a gourmet lunch and even some left over cheese for later camp meals.
It was a pleasant and pleasing cheesing in Marin County.
 |
| Cheesy Goodness! At the 'Rouge et Noir Marin French Cheese Company' |
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