After leaving Camp, we bombed down Highway 50 to Sacramento and its airport. There, we left Mom and Tina to catch their flight to Indy, via a change of planes in Phoenix. They didn’t get home until nearly midnight, EDT, but it was only 9 p.m. by their body clocks. We were sorry to say goodbye. We then headed off to S.F. and the kids. Usually, I hate this drive because of the very heavy traffic, especially once you get to the Berkeley area, but this year, for whatever reason, it was a breeze. Almost no stopping, and we flew into the City. We stayed at John & Meghan’s. Alia, alas, was stuck in Philadelphia for a work assignment, so we missed her. Like the traffic, the weather was cooperative, and we enjoyed a walk in a park just up the hill a bit from J&M’s place. Even a distant view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
We enjoyed a nice visit, yummy meals (thank you, J&M), and were on our way south by noon on Sunday. We took Hwy 101 so that we could stop off and see our old college friend, Paul, in San Luis Obispo. Too bad he’s not in the B&B business, he could clean up. We stayed the night, and he treated us to very fine wines
and equally great grilling.
Yup. That’s three bottles for the three of us, and each of them was superb. The food was up to the wines (delicious grilled salad greens and extras not shown),
and we essentially laughed and lip-smacked the balmy evening away.
Thank you Paul, master chef and host! Bobby Flay, watch out.
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