We have just returned from a week at the beach. Our destination this summer was Prime Hook in Delaware. Delaware again. I confess I was not jazzed at the prospect of a third summer spent on the Delaware shore. However, a variety of alternative travel plans fell through for a number of reasons and it seems like Delaware is now our default setting for family vacations. One advantage of having very much been there and done that is that our time at the beach was very chill because there was zero reason to go out exploring. Rather than experiences, therefore, our focus was on properly relaxing and recharging our batteries and on spending quality time together as a family – and this time our oldest son came with us too so we had all six of us on vacation for the first time since 2019.
Our oldest son had not been to Fort Miles at Cape Henlopen for several years so he accompanied his Aged Parents on a jaunt there. We were actually able to get inside Battery 519 for the first time so at least that was a new experience. My husband spent a lot of time chatting with the docents about a U-boat captain and the Civil War while I wandered around and looked at the exhibits.
We also went into Rehoboth one morning. Our first stop was the Farmers’ Market so we could pick up some patisserie for breakfast but we also spent some time on the boardwalk and browsing in stores. One incessantly rainy day, we decided to take a tour of some nearby thrift stores as a fun retail challenge. We ate a few meals out too and – after three summers of trying – my husband was finally able to order soft shell crab – so he ate two of them.
Most of our time, however, was spent at the rental house. With the house being right on the beach, a lot of time was spent in the water and on the sand. I am not so much a beach person so I just dipped in and out of such activities but I enjoyed sitting in the sunshine and watching the boys larking around in the water. I was able to spend some time on art and reading and we also played a lot of board games as a family.
We also got to enjoy terrific sunsets every evening.
Our week at the beach was a much-needed break away from our daily stresses and our usual routines and ruts. It was definitely relaxing and restorative. Next year, however, I am hoping for some travel plans that expand my experiences.
No sooner was the school year over (actually we bust the younger two kids out a day early) than we headed off on a much-needed vacation. Our oldest son did not accompany us for a variety of reasons so he stayed home with the cats. One of the things I have missed the most during this pandemic is travel so I was very glad of a break away from my own four walls. We needed to book way back when I was the only member of the family eligible for vaccination, however, so at that time we had to keep our plans modest and be mindful of the need to maintain mitigation efforts. For that reason, we rented a house on Slaughter Beach on Delaware’s bay.
The house was perfect for our needs. It had everything we needed for family life and easy access to the beach. There was a set of steps that took us from the house, across the dunes, and right onto the shore. Easy peasy. The boys absolutely loved that they could go to the beach whenever they wanted and at all times of the day. My favourite thing about the house was the master suite because it was massive. It was literally the entire second floor of the house. So luxurious. A large bank of windows meant that I could wake up and see the sun rise over the sea from the comfort of the bed every morning. I even had a nook that I could set up as my art table.
The nearest big town was Rehoboth and we headed there a couple of times. The first trip involved a morning jaunt to a farmers market and from there we walked to the shore so we could have a stroll on the boardwalk. The beach itself was absolutely heaving with people. Even in non-pandemic times, places that crowded set me on edge. I was very grateful that we had access to a very quiet beach with no public access so that we could be isolated and enjoy peace and quiet. Nobody was in the mood for shopping or boardwalk pursuits so we just wandered and people watched for a bit.
Our second trip to Rehoboth was to have a walk around Gordon’s Pond, which is a nature refuge. It proved to be a pleasant enough walk, especially since it was flat on a hot day, but the pond was very low and wildlife was nowhere to be seen. I think I saw a bird at a distance. We did get a good view of the submarine watchtowers from a raised walkway.
Because Mr Pict is an outer space nerd, we went out one morning to see a satellite launch. We were supposed to be able to see it in the sky ten second after launch. Mr Pict was viewing the live feed on his phone and was counting us down to the point when we should have been able to see the object in the sky. Alas, the clouds rolled in and we did not see a single speck of anything. You can see from the photograph how impressed the boys were by that jaunt.
Our nearest town for things like groceries was Milford. It is one of those towns that is clearly in the process of regenerating after the loss of its traditional industries. There are certainly shabby areas of the town but we found the centre to be quite appealing. We quickly found a favourite bakery and coffee shop and we stopped in there for some treats a couple of times. Their baked goods were among some of the best I have ever scoffed. We also returned one evening in order to buy some pierogis from a food truck since our 15 year old is a massive pierogi fan. It happened to be on an evening when there was some sort of community thing going on so the place was buzzing with people and there was a nice atmosphere. The boys approved of the various pierogis they purchased too.
On the subject of food, we also returned to the British themed fish and chip place that we discovered last summer. While it is not quite authentic chip shop grub, it is close enough for our stomach-based homesickness and quite delicious. We did takeaway and picnicked in the grounds of the same still-under-construction health clinic that we ate the same food in a year ago. I guess we are establishing new family traditions?
We visited a Nature Center on the outskirts of Milford one morning. It was not a big place so our visit took no time at all. It was, however, informative and we learned more about some of the local sea life and sea birds. We especially learned a lot about the anatomy of horseshoe crabs, which are truly peculiar creatures, and my 14 year old loved the turtles. We experienced a lot of wildlife on the stretch of beach in front of the rental house. The place was littered in horseshoe crab casts but the boys were most excited by the fact that they kept encountering live horseshoe crabs while they were paddling. We also encountered lots of little burrowing crabs and I even had a visit from a chubby frog one evening on the house’s patio. The wildlife I could most definitely have done without were the horseflies – what I grew up calling clegs. They were vicious and persistent and their bites were very nippy. I actually have a severe reaction to insect bites so the bites were very painful. There were so many swarms of them at certain times of the day that it was impossible to sit still and do anything. I had to take a fly swatter out with me and waft it about constantly just to keep them at bay. The same type of horseflies made us abandon a walk around a wildlife refuge at the end of our week’s vacation. The horde of them was just too apocalyptic to be tolerable.
The best thing about the vacation as far as Mr Pict and the boys were concerned, of course, was the beach. I am not much of a beach person because I loathe sand. I am happy to sit on the beach or paddle for a while but I cannot do it for hours on end. The ideal thing about our location was that I could just scuttle on back to the house and read or draw while still enjoying a view of the sea and fresh air coming in through screened windows. The menfolk, however, made the most of their time at the beach. They went out at all times of the day to paddle, swim, and kayak. There was a long shelf (is that the word?) which meant the water remained pretty shallow quite far out to shore. That meant we felt comfortable letting the boys take the kayak out without an adult being with them. Even our 12 year old was able to take the kayak out on his own. They really enjoyed that freedom. The 14 and 15 year olds even took the kayak out, took a break from paddling, and had some drinks and snacks while bobbing about in the waves.
It was a lovely week and a very welcome break from our own domestic spaces and our own well-worn routines. It was also great to spend a good chunk of quality family time together after a year of being trapped together while working, learning, and functioning as a family all on top of each other. It felt like we were rinsing some of the stress of the past year off and recharging our batteries.
We had really big travel plans for this Summer but, of course, the Covid 19 pandemic means that all of our plans were cancelled. As a family, we are taking the risks very seriously and are being super cautious with what we do. My youngest brother contracted Covid and had a really gruelling time getting through what is considered a mild case. That only served to underscore how important it was to stick to our strict way of operating. However, for various reasons too personal to get into, we did decide to get away for a few days. We found a beach house in Delaware where we could maintain our isolated ways and that had a robust, Covid specific cleaning regimen to put our anxiety at ease. We were also the first guests to stay in the house for several months. Our oldest son opted to stay home with the cats.
We obviously spent a lot of time at the beach. The property we rented was a two mile walk from the closest public access point and parking lot so it was exceptionally quiet and we never had to get remotely close to any other beach users. In addition to paddling and swimming, the boys loved collecting horseshoe crab moults (or horseshoe husks as the kids dubbed them). They gathered husks of various sizes over a few days and then my 14 year old had the idea to turn them into a sculpture. What my youngest loved doing was finding these peculiar little burrowing sea critters at the shore line. I think they are a type of isopod but I am not completely confident in even that vague identification. He enjoyed scooping them out of the wet sand and then watching them quickly burrowing back down. The beach was also home to a type of crab that ran at comically high speed and scurried from hole to hole. My 14 year old also found a hermit crab.
We also experienced some lovely sunrises and terrific sunsets on the beach. The boys also liked being out on the beach in the pitch dark. Mr Pict is into astronomy so he enjoyed using his binoculars to pick out details in the clear night sky.
I can only tolerate sand for so long so I liked having some other outdoor spaces to use. There was a raised deck at the house where I could sit and read, draw, and paint while being able to see the rest of the family larking about on the beach. Beneath that raised deck, there was a space enclosed with screens that was perfect for outdoor eating.
On the subject of eating, we mostly ate food at the house whipped up from ingredients we brought with us. One evening, however, we decided to have a treat because Mr Pict had spotted a place selling British style fish and chips. As Brits, how could we not go sample some grub there? They were doing roadside pickup so we placed our order and then parked up to eat it while it was all still steaming hot. It really was all pretty authentic and passed muster with our British tastebuds. The one exception was the brown sauce which was far too good quality for proper chippy sauce. Just the aroma of clouds of malt vinegar wafting off of hot chips transported me home. It was a delicious treat.
We did take a couple of excursions. We thought about exploring historic Lewes but it was far too busy and most people we saw were not wearing masks so we promptly nixed that idea. What we did instead was head to Cape Henlopen for a wander around Fort Miles. We have been there before, in 2017, and we planned on also exploring new areas of the coast, but every other spot was just too busy for comfort.
We went on two woodland walks. The first of these was at Prime Hook Wildlife Refuge. We had to pass a few people at the head of the trail but otherwise we seemingly had the whole place to ourselves and we ended up covering the entire network of trails partly intentionally and partly because we got ourselves a bit lost and looped certain trails twice. We definitely got our steps in that day! We encountered lots of birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and also lots of frogs or toads – I cannot confidently identify the species so please let me know if you can. My 11 year old also found a complete shed snakeskin but unfortunately we did not meet any snakes.
Our final trip was to Redden State Forest but that was a much shorter trek and we were literally the only people there. It was a very humid day, however, and we were being constantly bitten by insects. I have a severe reaction to insect bites so my left hand ballooned up. We, therefore, moved around the trail paths swiftly and skedaddled back to the car.
It was definitely restorative to get away for a few days and be hermits in a different space. It is not the Summer vacation we had planned for but it were definitely grateful for a simple getaway.
Our final destination of the cruise was Grand Turk, one of the Turks and Caicos Islands. Two decades ago, Mr Pict had a job opportunity that would have taken us to live on Grand Turk for at least two years. He declined for various reasons but I was curious to see what the island was like and to imagine what my life would have been like there.
The ship docked at a beach resort area but we were eager to see something of the real Grand Turk, albeit from a completely skewed tourist perspective. We, therefore, squeezed into a taxi and were whisked up the length of the narrow, flat island to the capital city, Cockburn Town. The population of the whole of Grand Turk is under 4000 so it’s a compact city more akin to a village. We spent some time perusing the stalls on Front Street and poking around on the beach – my kids found bits of coral, lobster body parts, and sun lounging dogs – and enjoying the view of the stunning turquoise water.
Our goal for the day was the National Museum so we popped in there when it opened. I am so often surprised by the quality of small, local museums or those dedicated to narrow interests. This was the case with the Turks and Caicos National Museum. The staff were very friendly and knowledgeable and they had really made the most of showcasing their exhibits, curating them in such a way that they told clear stories about the island. The Museum is sited in the Guinep House, one of the oldest buildings on the island. We learned that most of the timbers used in its construction were likely salvaged from shipwrecks, one of which was exposed so we could see it for ourselves. I was rather charmed by this fact since one of my Shetland ancestors was imprisoned in the 1840s for pillaging from a shipwreck, another group of islands with very few trees.
The ground floor of the museum was dedicated to showcasing its big ticket item: the finds from a wreck known as the Molasses Reef Wreck. A caravel from the very early 16th Century, it is the oldest European ship excavated in the Americas. While some like to claim that it could very well be Columbus’ ship Pinta (yup. him again), the museum staff were clear that identification has not been possible beyond stating the caravel was Spanish in origin and dated prior to 1520 at the latest. It is possible, for instance, that is was a slave ship. Regardless of its specific history, it was very cool to see the remains of such an old vessel. We saw timbers that still had the wooden “nails” in them, various armaments, and a massive anchor. A related exhibit illustrated how the ballast on the sea bed had been critical to identification and analysis and demonstrated how archaeologists had worked on the site.
Upstairs, we found an exhibit about the salt industry, the Fresnel lens of the island’s lighthouse, the story of an Irish helmet diver whose two brothers had drowned while diving, the culture of the indigenous Lucayans, and John Glenn’s landing in 1962 following his orbiting of the earth.
Following the Museum, we returned to the resort bay. My in-laws decided to relax on the ship but we Picts decided we would have a final beach day. The kids played on the sand and in the surf with their dad while I listened to a podcast while lying on a shaded lounger. That is the type of beach time I can compromise on. Not a bad hurrah for the last shore day of our cruise.
Our first destination on the cruise was the Dominican Republic. It was the only day on which we went on an organised excursion. This was a good move for two reasons. First of all, the ship docked in a cove that was designed purely for cruise ships which meant it was completely artificial and overtly touristy and the nearest actual town was too far to walk to. Secondly, the excursion turned out to be excellent and allowed us far greater insights into the Dominican Republic than our own explorations would have done.
We met with our tour guide and driver and hopped on the minibus. There were the eight of us and a dozen other people so it was a small group. The nearest city to the dock was Puerto Plata and, as we drove through, our guide was able to point out several things unique to the country and explain a bit about the culture. We saw lots of whole roasted pigs on sticks being cooked and sold at stalls on the busy streets. We learned that this was because this type of roasted pork was the traditional meat for Christmas dinner and lots of people would be buying it that day, Christmas Eve. We were also informed that the city took its name not from the metal silver but because of a particular tree that grew on the hillsides, the grey leaves of which seemed to look silvery in the mountain fog. Our drive also took us past various views of the mountain named Isabella. We learned that this was a name bestowed upon it by Christopher Columbus and that the first European village in the New World was located nearby. It was such a beautiful place to be the launch pad of a history of disease, conflict, slavery, and genocide.
Soon we were leaving the city and were wildly bouncing and careering along unsurfaced, winding, uphill roads that took us into the lush vegetation of the rural areas of Puerto Plata province. On the way, we learned about eclectic subjects such as vernacular architecture, mahogany, the lottery, and tiny stores that sell individual ingredients such as one egg or a few slices of meat at a time. Our destination was a village where we could learn more about the rural way of life in the region. We were invited to enter one home, which was Tardis like in its use of space. I especially enjoyed seeing the kitchen, which was an adjacent but separate building from the home, and the clay wood fired cooker.
We were shown around the agricultural area and the produce being grown was identified and its uses explained to us. I found that to be thoroughly interesting. I, for one, had never seen coffee plants in real life before. I also saw my first breadfruit tree. Our 9 year old had two bucket list items for his time in the Caribbean: to see bananas growing and to see cacao in the wild. He achieved both goals on the trip as there were seven varieties of banana being grown, including a red variety I had never seen before, and there were trees full of cacao pods. Our wee chocoholic was elated. He was even more ecstatic when he learned that he was going to get to sample hot chocolate made from the locally grown cacao. It was richly delicious. Other members of the family tried the freshly ground coffee. We all thoroughly enjoyed chunks of freshly harvested pineapple and guava.
Our next stop was the village elementary school. As an educator, I found it really interesting to see the similarities and differences in the education system and the way the school buildings and classrooms were organised. I was, however, glad that school was not in session (given it was Christmas Eve) as I would have felt uncomfortable seeing the students used props for tourists.
We then had a break for lunch. It was a buffet of the types of food Dominicans would eat on a typical day. I especially enjoyed the rice and beans. The boys loved the fried chicken. During our lunch pit stop, there was some dancing entertainment to showcase the fusion of indigenous, African, and European culture in the Dominican Republic. We also saw a man making cigars and sampled some local alcohol. Our cat fanatic 9 year old was absolutely thrilled to meet a local cat.
The final destination for the day was a beach, as this area of the country is famed for its beautiful beaches. The boys loved the opportunity to just let loose and splash and crash among the waves. Our guides provided some body boards so they tried that out too. Even as someone who does not like sand, I had to agree it was a pretty good way to end the trip.
I liked what I saw of the Dominican Republic, from the brief sampling we had, and would definitely consider returning to explore more of the country, its varied history, and its diverse cultures.
We Picts closed out 2018 on a bang as we spent the festive period on vacation. My in-laws had generously gifted us a Caribbean Cruise for Christmas so the eight of us celebrated the season on the high seas, spending a week exploring new places and cultures (for the kids and me at least), and experiencing a cruise for the first time in the case of our youngest two children and me.
Of course, before we could board the ship and sail off in the lap of luxury, we had to get to Miami. We, therefore, spent two days driving south from the Philly suburbs to Miami. That’s a whole lot of the I95, a useful but incredibly boring road that sometimes feels as if it is never going to earn. We spent the first night on the outskirts of Savannah and arrived in Miami the following evening. We had hoped for a bit more time in Miami but holiday traffic had other plans for us. Nevertheless, we were able to meet up with my in-laws (who had flown over from the UK) in time to have a delicious dinner.
However, as early risers, the next morning we had enough time to explore Miami Beach. As frequent readers of this blog will be well aware, I am not a fan of sand. The only good sand is glass as far as I am concerned. However, Mr Pict and the Pictlings love the beach so I suck it up, brace myself, and just deal with my discomfort. The kids found a shiny but decidedly dead fish and our youngest son found a teenie-weenie coconut. While they enjoyed the beach and the warm sea air, what I liked about the beach area was all the 1930s architecture of Ocean Drive and its environs. I love Art Deco for its elegant use of geometric shapes and clean lines and pops of colour. There were also some sleek buildings in the moderne style and some that seemed to have a hispanic influence.
As luck should have it, we happened to be standing on Ocean Drive when the local fire brigade drove past in a formation. While the emergency lights were flashing, there were no sirens. That is because this was no emergency. Instead, it was their Christmas parade. The fire engines were being driven by Santa and elves while the Grinch and a gingerbread man appeared as passengers. There were children on board too so we waved enthusiastically at them as they passed by.
We left Miami beach and headed to the port area to ready ourselves for embarking onto the cruise ship. I admit that I found the whole process quite stressful. As someone used to either travelling entirely under my own steam when road tripping or experiencing the relatively controlled routines of flying, the process for boarding the ship felt quite stressful. My anxiety hit peak when we had to leave our luggage with a porter which pretty much left it unattended among hordes of people. Having travelled around London for decades and then having flown in the post-9/11 world, the whole idea of “unattended luggage” is anathema to me. Add to that the fact that I experienced having possessions stolen from my luggage 20 years ago and I was deeply unsettled by the whole thing. Then there were milling crowds. I am British and, therefore, culturally hard-wired to strongly prefer orderly queuing. The random hustle and bustle unsettled me further. It all just felt a bit chaotic and haphazard. Even when we boarded, because our rooms were not going to be available for a few hours more, it was a case of everyone scuttling to find a space in which to settle down. In the grand scheme of things, these are all small beer quibbles but I cannot deny that those were an intense few hours for me, neurotic control freak that I am.
We wandered the ship to start getting our bearings and finally had access to our rooms in early afternoon. Then we were finally off. We bid farewell to Miami and I headed off on my very first cruise.
The entire focus of our trip was a visit to Assateague Island – everything else we had done as we travelled south along the coast was just grist to the mill. Assateague is a barrier island that is split between Maryland and Virginia. We were visiting the National Seashore (this bagging another National Park property) which is wholly within Maryland’s border. We began our trip, as we tend to do, with a stop by into the NPS Visitor Centre. We have been to many NPS Visitor Centres but the one at Assateague was among the best. The information regarding the flora, fauna, and history of the island was presented in easily digested gobbets, amply illustrated with images and objects. My boys particularly enjoyed a tortoise shell and a horse skeleton. Best of all, however, there were live whelks and horseshoe crabs in a touch pool tank. They spent ages guddling around in the water. I think they may want a pet horseshoe crab now.
We began our actual exploration of the island with a circular trail through sand dunes. This afforded the boys ample opportunities to climb things, whether trees or large pieces of driftwood. There was also a crumbling raised asphalt road dating from the interwar years that appeared at various points on the trail. That was a weird juxtaposition among the sand dunes and trees. Mr Pict thought the NPS should have made an effort to completely demolish and remove it but to my mind I think that it forms part of the history of the island and I rather like the idea that it sends a message about humans trying to develop the island but being repelled by nature.
The next stop was the ocean. Yes. The ocean. In late November. My kids were adamant that they were not visiting the beach without going in the water. I had absolutely forbidden it the previous day, when we were on the Delaware Coast, because the wind chill was bitter. There was much wailing and whining and protesting, chief among the arguments being that we used to let them go into the sea in Scotland on chilly days, albeit chilly summer days. I was not persuaded. On Assateague, however, I relented but advised that they just paddle at first while they determined whether they could actually cope with the cold. They donned their swimming kit, bounded across the sand, and were in the water in no time at all. I meanwhile wore their beach towels like shawls as I watched them. They did abide by my ruling and paddled for a short while before they decided to jump around in the waves and inevitably get soaked. No swimming but plenty of jumping and dunking.
Of course, what Assateague is most famed for is its population of feral horses. We had seen one, through some bushes, as we drove onto the island but we were obviously keen to see more. Once everyone was dried and dressed, therefore, we headed back along the road and had several horse encounters. We found a safe place to pull over and park up so that the two younger boys and I could hop out of the car and see the horses up close – though not too close, of course, and within the rules. Nobody really knows how it was that domesticated horses became feral horses occupying the island. There is, of course, the usual story about them having been survivors of a shipwreck but they are probably just the descendants of the horses pastured there by 17th Century farmers. Whatever their origins, we were delighted to see them as closely as we did. My 10 year old loves horses so he was over the moon. It also meant we had achieved the main goal of our entire overnight trip and we got to end our Thanksgiving travels with a highlight.
We had started our second day in Baltimore so early that we found we were leaving the city before noon. We, therefore, decided to do something spontaneous as we drove through Northern Maryland and head to the Chesapeake.
We first stopped in Havre de Grace. I have driven past the small city several times before but have never actually been in. It looked quaint and picturesque, the type of place that would be pleasant for a stroll. We went straight to the Concord Point Lighthouse, which is sited where the Chesapeake meets the Susquehanna. During the War of 1812, the British attacked the city and, during that attack, Lieutenant John O’Neill manned the cannon single-handed in order to defend the town. Injured and captured, the story goes that his 16 year old daughter rowed out to the British vessel and plead for her father’s release. She was succesful and her father was released and the British Admiral awarded her bravery with an expensive snuffbox. When the lighthouse was built in the late 1820s, O’Neill and his family were made its hereditary keepers as an expression of gratitude. The granite lighthouse is 26 feet high with the lantern bringing it to 36 feet. Although we could not go inside, apparently it is a rope ladder that allows people to ascend through a trapdoor to the lantern. The keepers did not have to be accommodated within the lighthouse itself as there was a separate dwelling nearby.
After our visit to the lighthouse, the boys were keen for a dip in the water. We, therefore, headed to a town named North East – which also looked very pleasant – and Elk Neck State Park. The kids immediately donned their swimming gear and rushed down to the shore. The beach was rough, scrubby, and pebbly but the kids said that it turned to finer sand once they were further out in the water. The incline into the water was gentle and the kids could get really quite far out while standing. Beaches are not my thing but the kids had a blast swimming, splashing, and floating around. It was a good way to burn off their energy before the rest of the journey home.
Regular readers of this blog may recall that I am a movie nerd. I have successfully managed to inspire my sons into being movie nerds too, especially the middle two kids. I have not indoctrinated them, of course, but my enthusiasm for film has transferred to them and now we can all enjoy watching movies together, analysing them, comparing them, and obviously being entertained by them. As a fan of Alfred Hitchcock, I have given my kids a gentle introduction to his movies. We started with ‘The Trouble with Harry’, then moved on to ‘Rear Window’, and then ‘The Birds’. When I told them that we would be staying in the area where ‘Shadow of a Doubt’ (which they have not seen) and ‘The Birds’ were filmed, they were eager to go and visit the locations. I was happy to oblige. Mr Pict had accompanied me on the same mission 17 years before so was also happy to indulge us this time.
We decided to focus on Bodega and Bodega Bay since the kids had actually seen ‘The Birds’ and would recognise the locations. When we reached Bodega, we drove up to the church and parked up. The kids and I got out and wandered the few yards to the Potter House. This is a private residence so, rest assured, we were careful not to be intrusive or to cause a commotion. The house was built in 1873 and originally served as a schoolhouse and it served as the school building in the Hitchcock movie, the set of an important scene in the film and, therefore, featuring prominently. Of course, we could not resist acting out the film but we wanted to be respectful of the local residents so we acted it out as if it had been a silent movie. My kids are such ham actors. St Theresa’s church can be glimpsed during that scene so we took some photos and reenacted some silent action scenes there too.
The movie creates the impression that the schoolhouse and church are right on the coast but, in fact, Bodega is a short drive inland from the bay. We, therefore, jumped back in the car and headed to Bodega Bay. The main focus of our visit to the town was the Tides Restaurant. It plays a prominent role in the movie and is still identifiable as the key location, despite being remodelled a fair bit since the 1960s. When I was last there, it felt very much like Bodega Bay barely tolerated the Hitchcock connection. Apart from one leaflet, there was nothing that declared the place to have been related to the movie. This time, however, it appeared that the town had embraced the movie as a tourist opportunity. Inside the Tides there were ample references to the film, from stuffed ravens to a mock up of a building with smashed windows. More opportunities for ham acting, in other words. The kids bought some ice lollies and we stepped out onto the back deck to look at the bay. We could see the spit of land opposite where the Brenner house stood (it was torn down immediately after filming), the road where Tippi Hedren drove out to that house, and the jetty where she rented a boat to cross the bay.
Once everyone had finished their iced treats, we jumped back in the car and headed along the coastal road to Salmon Creek Beach. It was early evening by this juncture and the air was distinctly chilly. There was no way the kids were even going to go for a paddle, let alone a swim. However, we found a new way to keep them entertained. The beach was covered with little huts that had been built out of driftwood. They were really great, really competently built structures. I don’t know who had erected them and for what purpose but I do know they would fare a lot better than I would if marooned on a desert island. That inspired my kids to gather up driftwood and build their own structure. We ran out of time before they got anywhere near completed but it kept them entertained for over an hour. They also found a washed up, decaying cow carcass. I am sure most people’s kids would recoil at such a discovery but my kids reacted like they had found buried treasure and studied the corpse, fascinated. It’s possible I have exposed them to too much Hitchcock after all.
The third day of our vacation fell on a Saturday. LA had been crowded and full of too much hustle and bustle even on weekdays so we decided to get away from the city and go for a nature ramble instead. J and L suggested that we meet up with some friends of theirs and go for a hike which seemed like just the ticket. Their friends in turn suggested a coastal hike so that we would benefit from the cooling sea breezes on such a hot day. We, therefore, headed to Point Dume. Yes, I too am disappointed it is not spelled Doom.
Point Dume is essentially a cliff in Malibu. My middle two sons – the comic book geeks – were excited to learn that the promontory was the site of Tony Stark’s CGI mansion in the ‘Iron Man’ movies. More excitingly for me, the adjacent beach was the location of the climactic scene in ‘The Planet of the Apes’. Our hike took us along a pathway with a gentle ascent up to the promontory. It offered us incredible views of the surrounding landscape, from the mansions behind us, to the beaches beyond, and the ocean stretching to the horizon.
My boys and their wee cousin decided to give me palpitations by scampering down a sandy slope from a viewing platform to a cliff edge below. Mr Pict and L followed them down to keep a closer eye on them but still my fear of heights was escalating to panic attack proportions watching them inch closer and closer to the edge. I had visions of the whole cliff face sheering off. I actually felt giddy and queasy and was glad when everyone decided to clamber back up to more solid, stable ground. Meanwhile, to try and distract me from the potential for Doom at Dume, the friends pointed out various landmarks in the distance and told me about the grey whales they often see passing in the winter months. I have never seen grey whales before so that would have been a superb experience. We did, however, see a pod of dolphins arching in and out of the water and there were sea-lions with their pups galore piled up on the rocks just below us – though looking straight down at them was also triggering my fear of heights.
Thankfully and finally everyone was ready to move on from the cliff top and we began to snake our way back down on sandy, pebble strewn pathways past cacti in bloom and darting lizards. We headed in the direction of Zuma Beach. L and I peeled off to take the gaggle of kids to the beach while the other adults headed off in search of lunch – since we had all entirely failed to pack one. The kids did not complain as they ended up munching pizza and giant sandwiches on the beach. You may recall from many a post, however, that I loathe sand. Between heights and sand, I was having a nerve-shredding day. Since I was hungry, I tried my best to eat a sandwich despite my 20+ year policy of never eating at the beach. I regretted even trying. Not only was I wincing with every bite, expecting my teeth to touch grains of sand, but a ruddy great seagull came swooping down on my head, battered into my skull, and stole my entire sandwich. I am, therefore, returning wholeheartedly to my commitment to never eat on a beach.
Despite the sand and seagull thing, we had a wonderful time at the beach. Zuma Beach is clean and relatively quiet and the boys could go out quite far into the sea while still being at paddling height. They were loving frolicking in the waves as it was but it made them enjoy the experience even more when a slick and stealthy sea-lion bobbed up between them as it skirted the shoreline. There were also several pods of dolphins who swam past. Sadly none were doing aquatic acrobatics but it was magical to see them so close. We also saw pelicans in flight and built sand sculptures of sea creatures and the kids went scouting for seaweed to outline them. Little cousin W also enjoyed burying my oldest son in the sand which was all fun and games until a lifeguard didn’t notice him in the sand and stood on him. Crushed by a lifeguard at the beach. I don’t think that ever happened on ‘Baywatch’.
Late in the afternoon as the wind picked up, J decided to get a kite out for the kids to play with. All was going swimmingly until the kite collided with the telephone wire going into the lifeguard tower and got completely snagged. Oh dear. Obviously we had to attempt to retrieve it but it was significantly taller than even the tallest member of our group. The only option, therefore, was to MacGyver some sort of tool that could be used to unhook the kite from the wire. Engineering skills were sorely lacking but a tool was nevertheless created. Mr Pict then plonked our 10 year old onto his shoulders and our son then used the tool to try and catch the kite string and move it off the wire. They tried different combinations of children on adult shoulders. At one point, they even had the 5 year old on top of the 10 year old on top of Mr Pict and still the kite remained resolutely stuck to the wire. Admitting that the tool was probably not going to work, it was abandoned and more simple methods were resorted to – lobbing shoes at the kite in the hopes of knocking it off the wire. This whole escapade went on for quite some time. An embarrassingly long time actually. People strolling on the beach stopped to spectate. People turned their deck chairs to face the action instead of the sea. We were their entertainment. The pressure was on to actually succeed with that many witnesses to the caper. It got to the stage where other people were volunteering their shoes, thinking their footwear was more aerodynamic or would pack more of a wallop when it collided with the kite. There was a near constant barrage of shoes soaring across or just below the kite but the odd one that made contact did little to budge it. Finally, some off-duty military men offered to help. Maybe it was their army training that did the job, maybe their shoes were the perfect torpedoes for kites, maybe the kite had been budged little by little so that it was finally ripe for the plucking, or perhaps it was just lucky timing, but within minutes of joining in the fray, these chaps had successfully walloped the kite in such a way that it bounced off the wire and was then rapidly caught by our 11 year old before the wind caught it and took it. Everyone on the beach burst into spontaneous applause, whistles and cheers. We didn’t provide an encore.
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