From Ventura to Santa Barbara

After a lovely night at the Ventura County Fair,we sleep pretty well at the Glen Tavern Inn in Santa Paula, CA. The lobby’s a welcoming place, with exposed beams and richly hued carpets that exude the charm of those great American western lodges:

The desk staff is young and polite and friendly, too — which makes arrivals a pleasure. The rooms, though, have seen their better days several decades ago. Those glowing, candle-lit images from the hotel website (dressed nicely with fresh flowers) don’t reflect the paint-chipped, droopy-curtained realities of the actual guest rooms:

The bathrooms aren’t the cleanest ever, either, or the most convenient. This morning, as he showers, poor Clyde nicks his forehead on the shower head, which doesn’t make the best start for his day. (Future guests of Room 232: yes, that’s blood on the shower stall walls!)

But things look up quickly when we drive back down to Ventura for breakfast at Midtown Cafe. A TripAdvisor search for “vegan breakfast” doesn’t turn up much, but our old friend Google takes the search phrase “breakfast vegan Ventura” and leads us right to this friendly, packed-with-locals eatery:

Server Amber seats us right up front, brings us good, strong coffee, and, a few minutes later, one of the most beautiful vegan breakfast burritos I’ve ever laid eyes on:

(That guy behind the burrito looks pretty good, too, doesn’t he?)

I plow right into that hot package of vegan goodness (the burrito, that is — not Clyde!) — and find eggs and cheese. At first, I’m thinking, “Wow, they’ve done amazing things with this tofu,” but soon, it’s apparent that I’ve got someone else’s burrito on my plate. (It’s packed with real eggs and cheese!)

Amber is apologetic, the offending burrito disappears, and in minutes, Amber presents a new one packed with scrambled tofu, beans, rice, and veggies. It’s equally delicious — as are the eye-opening “breakfast shots” Amber brings us as a little present: maple syrup, ginger, and cayenne pepper. “Drink it fast,” Amber tells us. “The heat will hit you, and then the sweet.” (She’s right.)

Breakfast is wonderful … but my favorite meal of the day is our ad-hoc picnic lunch. We stop at a local market, pick up fresh strawberries (harvested no more than 48 hours earlier, guaranteed), a quinoa salad (with corn and beans), and Silk soy-based blueberry yogurt to go with the whole-grain tortilla chips and guacamole we already have in the car cooler. Down the road in Santa Barbara, we perch at Shoreline Park and assemble our modest feast:

We’ve eaten at some great restaurants during our travels … but this picnic lunch on an overcast day overlooking the Pacific Ocean is a pleasant, quiet moment — the kind of thing a restaurant can’t deliver.

We’re happy … healthy … and here … together, with all of Highway 1 ahead of us.