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.