1,000 miles gone - Big Sur to Bear Country

A holiday within a holiday. Are we being greedy? Probably, but lifes not always going to be like this, so we're going to make the most of it. And so, our slightly longer than a month road trip along the west coast of the US starts with a flight out of Costa Rica, into LA. I don't see Family Back that often, and this being the second time I've come to visit in two months, feel spoilt at the opportunity to spend some time with them again. And Seren and Kai sort of seem to remember who I am, but have the added distraction of the far more interesting Becky to entertain them. Or is it the other way around, as Becky sets about putting makeup on Seren and laughing hysterically at her in her clothes, especially a very fashionable but slightly too large bikini which is worn on our first outing to the pool. Michael, Chloe's Dad is having his holiday crashed by us and babysits, allowing the four of us a rare venture out at night. Twice!

We pillage camping equipment and electronic devices generously offered to us, and we are soon on our way in our rental SUV. Or is it? I have no idea what kind of car it is as I know nothing about cars. But its big. And we can sleep in it if we get desperate.

We've chosen a corker of a weekend to start our travels on, Labour day weekend. The last big hurrah of the American holiday season, and as such everything is booked. But we manage to steal a last minute camping spot at the start of Big Sur, a splendid stretch of road running along the coast between Los Angeles and San Francisco. But can we get out of LA? No. Not without a slight argument with the GPS device, which leads us inland on route 101 instead of along the coastal highway 1. We do what every modern day person would do, and blindly follow every instruction the machine gives us. She does have a lovely computer voice after all.

Somehow we manage to make it onto route 1. I take over the driving and in blind panic, manage to swiftly reverse our progress by heading us back to LA. Its called a freeway for a reason. Everyone is free to overtake, undertake, ignore signalling amongst many other things. Turn offs can either be on the right hand side or on the left, and a road can very swiftly fork into two. Which is what takes me unawares. That and the automatic gearbox. Its like a dodgem car, especially on the brakes! The only thing they've got right over here are the pool lanes, which allow cars with 2 or more people to get ahead of the rest.

We drift along the coast, stopping for photographs of kite surfers jumping into the sky and sea lions basking in the late evening light. The scenery is stunning, rolling uphill and along cliff edge. We listen to Rolling Stone Magazine's Top 500 Rock Songs as a movie set backdrop slides by. Arriving late at the campsite, we soon realise that Americans 'Know how to camp', staying in a shielded-off camp surrounded by redwood trees. Pine fresh smells, and not from a 'shake n vac'. We park our newly borrowed double decker tent in-between trailers, winnebagos and SUVs with the crackle of campfires in our ears.

Hitting the road as we wake, we continue where we left off. Skateboard brand towns pass us by, Ventura, Santa Cruz, where we stop for an amazing bite to eat and a passing look at surf shops, making our way lazily up to San Francisco. The Sat Nav is now our friend and guides us skilfully to our hotel, The Red Victorian, owned by Sami Sunshine. I strongly suspect thats not her real name. We seem to have entered some kind of hippy paradise. Each room is originally decorated to reflect its name, such as 'The Summer of Love', 'The Peace Room, 'The Rainbow room'. You get the gist. We're in the Skylight Room. And yup, its got a skylight. Overlooking Haight, a main street that runs all the way into the centre of San Fran. Sami Sunshine's peace paintings line the walls of the hotel. One of them I quite liked.

We love the town. It feels creative, trendy, exciting and active. We visit Chinatown, the Golden Gate Bridge (Which the Sat Nav navigates us over twice!) and trek around the whole town. A trip to SFMoma gallery and a look at the 'Georgia O'Keefe/ Ansel Adams' exhibition finds us both agreeing on the genius of Ansel Adams and the extremely ordinary O'Keefe. I could paint a shell better than that! Ansel Adams provides a glimpse of the next stage of our trip with beautiful black and white photographs of nature, particularly Yosemite National Park which we will soon be visiting. Fisherman's Wharf is overrun with sealions, who swamp a floating pier. Becky buys me a shirt which feels equal parts lumberjack and equal parts Shoreditch chic. I luvs it.

Driving the car over the Golden Gate bridge, and then doing it again, we head for Napa and wine country. We've got the camping vibe which is easier after a tasting at a local vineyard in Calistoga. Then on to Guerneville. Nope, we didn't see anyone pulling faces, but a particularly mad bodybuilding barman provided some good entertainment. A Kayak down the serene river and a much needed shower-dip did us a world of good.

And next thing we know is, we're in bear country. Yosemite exchanges grape vines for ragged woods and looming pines. Winding our probably SUV along to White Wolf campsite, bear warnings are everywhere. Pictures of bears crossing the road, photos of bears invading people's campsites and prising the doors off the hinges of cars give us ample warning of who we could be sharing our tents with. This is warning enough to make putting all food and strongly scented cosmetic products into bear boxes the first job when we set up camp. Bear proofed bins are locked down with caribinas, red warning signs tell cars to slow down, a bear has been run over here recently. Apparantly bears can smell a sealed can of coke in a glove compartment of a locked car in a valley from the farthest cliff top. They also have a sense of smell ten times that of a bloodhound. Information such as this is the reason I am turning my head to survey the campsite as I write this. Bear shit near our tent this morning is another pretty damned fresh reason. So it is true!

John Muir, a naturalist who worked in these woods sums up how I am feeling right now. Sorry if its pretentious, but i'm going to quote him now, so hold on.

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy. While cares will drop off like autumn leaves."

A thousand miles gone. How many more to go?

View '1,000 miles gone - Big Sur to Bear Country' photos here

Costa-ri-ka-ka-ka-ka!

Finally we arrive at our destination, and new home for a while. We have to spend a night in San Jose, and choose to spend our time here satisfying a shopping urge. Aaaaahhh… the sweet taste of consumerism. Actually, thats really all there is to do in San Jose, a city we are less than taken with.

With relief to our wallets, we take a 5am bus (theres only one a day!) out to the West coast. And, walking along Samara beach, we are transported to a tropical paradise. Lush palm trees and jungle loom onto a heat hazy, sandy shoreline, waves breaking breezily along the perimeter. We almost manage to miss our bus the next day the next morning, the only thing we have to do all day, as we are told four varying times of departure. Luckily our taxi driver knows the truth and screeches to a halt managing to catch the bus as it is about to leave. An old yellow ex-American school bus runs us into Nosara, two crates of tiny-weeny yellow chicks cheep all the way along a bumpy pot-holed dirt track.

And almost without realising it, we are walking through the door of Innocent Surf School, Becky's new place of work, meeting Gemma, who greets us with a squeal and a warm hug. The shop is funkily decorated with colourful beanbags, projector beaming surf movies all day long onto a crisp white wall. Ru, Gemma's other half, arrives soon after, returning from a surf lesson, along with Jack and Al, the team surf is complete.

Becky has a week off before she starts work and we settle into a tropical life of sand n surf. The very next morning, Gemma takes us out for a lesson. She's an amazing teacher. And after 10 years of pretend surf trips, we suddenly realise what it's all about. We are fully immersed in surf life. Everything is either 'sick' or 'awesome', and apparently someone surfing well is 'shredding'. Ru very very patiently explains the rules of the surf competition as Becky and I break concentration and laugh at the ridiculous names of the surfers - Taj, Clay, Koko Ho, and Wiggoley Dantes (who we call Wiggly Dance).

Gem and Ru are both so warm and generous and manage to make us feel at home within days of being here. Ru is a mac geek and is currently building a new website with a team who work for facebook. I suddenly go from feeling thousands of miles away from my old life as a web designer in London to feeling strangely close to it all, despite being in the middle of the jungle!

Costa Rica has the richest abundance of tropical wildlife in the world. I think. And we are witness to this on a daily basis… Howler monkeys scream at night, a man drives by trying to sell us a boa constrictor. Prodigy album cover style black and red one clawed crabs cover the surf drenched paths near the beach. Washed up baby turtles need rescuing by Innocent Gem, rays skim the surface as we bob on a board out at sea. And a turtle pops his head up to say hello as I am waiting for a wave. I find a baby boa writhing on our patio floor freshly-beheaded by a gardener, who we suspect doesn't want to meet its grown up self during his 9-5 job. Becky doesn't like it when I move it inside to the bathroom, rightly so as we are lately told that others boas smell them and come to find those in trouble. A recent road side sighting of a 9ft beauty confirms her fears.

Yan's big night out for Jack's leaving do rocks the boat as a normally lazy night life is turned into a shot slamming 2 am finish. A worried Becky is found pacing the floor of our new pad as I return, whistling after my big adventure.

Becky starts work and instantly settles into the Innocent lifestyle of early morning surfing, followed by hose shower, then a day at work. Early morning rises are followed by early bedtimes; a start contrast to our lives in England. I, however, have nothing to do bar prepare for Becky's 30th, sunbathe, and surf, and I struggle to find a rhythm. Am I on holiday? Or is this my life? I'm bored bored bored, poor me, and feel like a spare part. It's hard to meet people not attached to the surf school. I also feel a little detached from the real world; no phone connection, and very expensive internet connections.

So, to avoid the growing tension I am causing, get a bit of space, and buy a computer, I fly to LA. I mean, what else can I do? It's a great plan, and as I return from a lovely time visiting Graeme, Chloe and family, life starts to take off for me in Nosara. I get a job at the Beach Cafe, working for our new friends Joe and Chris, in my old career as a coffee shop Barista.

I feel plugged back into the real world, as I meet people left, right and centre, and even acquire some freelance design work with my newly purchased MacBook Pro. MMmmmmmm! Everyone in Nosara uses Macs! It's like a living Apple store. I even get some work fixing up machines and trying to resurrect dead hard drives.

We're actually getting quite good at surfing (Despite the above photo) . Becky is hardcore and bravely battles behemoth waves with 'I didn't even notice how big they were'. Our villa is amazing, a steal at the price we are paying. Our poor landlords wanted the burden off his hands after a string of bad luck that involved in the course of a week his father dying, losing his job, and crashing into the Hudson River after a flock of geese flew into the plane's engines. We're pretty much there to pay off his debt with his property manager, the manic but lovely Frenchie Agnes.

Everyone here either seems to be a surf instructor, yoga teacher or estate agent. And after a bit of a wobble, we reverse our decision to leave Nosara, and decide to come back for another season. Vanessa and Cottey pay us a visit, and it's great to be able to share some of these experiences with them. I hope to have more visitors over the next six months. We have a spare room, so come on over!

View 'Costa-ri-ka-ka-ka-ka!' photos here