Postcard from San Diego, California. I left the car rental center early, challenging Los Angeles’ infamous morning commute, to get to the furthest western point of another bucket list item: Mulholland Drive. A dreamy and hypnotic road stretching like a snake on the hills above LA. The morning mist might have been responsible for the disappointing lack of views, but it made the drive hazy and magical. David Lynch would have approved. Right at the end of the road, the sun came out, this time to stay, making the earlier switch to a convertible finally worthwhile. A couple of hours later, after a strenuous but victorious fight against the vicious…

Postcard from Los Angeles, California. After a compulsory early detour inland to avoid the usual morning coastal mist, I drove most of the 100 miles right along the Pacific Ocean. As I questioned my luck about the once again gray sky and the questionable local radio music choices, I found comfort in hearing the GPS say “to Los Angeles” as if it knew it was a cool city to name. Once in LA, I returned the car because, like last year, a grand finale deserves something better than a midsize. But not having a car in the City of Angels is not an easy task. To add a layer of…

Postcard from Carpinteria, California. A short and quick-ish 135 miles driven mostly on the CA 1 South, with a couple of unnecessary diversions to get a break from the frenetic fast pacing highway and drive at my own – slow – speed in this first full day drive in Southern Cali, a region that boosts 300+ days of sunshine every year. Not this morning. Not this evening. The sunny afternoon though, in Santa Barbara, was pleasantly spent strolling between downtown and West Beach partly betraying my commitment to the holy tacos (+2) for a luscious lobster roll. Fair, I say. First swim in the Pacific Ocean: aborted. Way too damn…

Postcard from San Luis Obispo, California. I tried to enter the Cabrillo Highway as far north as possible to avoid a long drive back and forth, but it turned out that most of the roads cutting through the Big Sur mountains were closed. Hence, the first possible intersection with Highway 1 was a whopping 50 miles south of the northern point of closure, a mere 3 miles or less from Lucia, where I had to stop yesterday. Same landscapes, same breathtaking views, but little or no clouds this time. Less drama, less tragedy, no pathos. It felt wrong. San Luis Obispo. A pastel-colored mid-sized city right on the border between…