Surf's Up

Like most people, my only exposure to the word “Ventura” is the Anderson Paak album. I tried looking up the album at work only to find a bunch of pictures of some Californian city, and ended up visiting Ventura, along with its big sister Santa Barbara, on Independence Day.

From Los Angeles, the 101 takes you north through various Spanish-language valleys - San Fernando Valley, Conejo Valley, Santa Clara River Valley. It’s remarkable that a state whose geographical features are almost exclusively named after Catholic conquistadors and priests somehow managed to become the most godless of them all. We could easily provide renewable energy to the whole state by hooking up generators to their rotating graves during Pride Month.

Ventura is hemmed in by the Santa Ynez mountains, which seems to have resulted in somewhat denser development than in other parts of Southern California. The city pedestrianized six blocks of its downtown over the pandemic and people liked it so much that they kept it that way. This trend is, in my opinion, the greatest silver lining of the past two years. With the newly reclaimed space, the city hosted a big street fair for the Fourth of July.

A little converted courtyard filled with businesses. Reminds me a lot of the one in Placerville.

About 15 minutes north, just before the town of Carpinteria, we stopped for a quick cliffside stroll.

Amtrak has a Pacific Surfliner service that runs along the sea.

From there, it was a short drive up to Santa Barbara. The city is remarkably clean by Californian standards, and its architectural heritage feels incredibly well-maintained.

The city’s main street, State Street, is a true masterpiece of modern urbanism: one mile of pedestrianized, greenified, bike-friendly goodness. Santa Barbara is a city that understands the fundamental human desire for well-planned, walkable spaces, and it’s fortunate enough to be situated close to a massive city with no such spaces. Consequently, droves of visitors drive up from the car-hell of LA every weekend to give Santa Barbara their money.

I hate shopping malls as a concept, but this one gets a pass.

The Amtrak lines run straight through the heart of Santa Barbara.

From the pier again, but 20 miles north.

The Santa Ynez Mountains, rising just 3 miles inland, keeps the city cool and properties expensive.

In his book Hinterlands, Neel asserts that there are two kinds of people: those who see hares, and those who see pelts. Looking at California’s brown hills juxtaposed against its sprawling cities, I know that this state was settled by those who see pelts - because anyone with even a fleeting respect for nature would see that this parched chapparal wasn’t meant for humans. But borne out of mankind’s boundless ego and love for good weather are the cities of Southern California.

song of the day: Anderson Paak - Reachin’ 2 Much - a funky masterpiece of 2010s rnb.