Thinking back to happier times

It wasn't all that long ago that I wasn't sick and actually went out and did fun stuff involving physical exertion. But it kind of feels like forever. The worst, of course, has been the periodic laryngitis, where it has either hurt to talk, or I haven't been able to talk at all. The pain! Both metaphorical and literal.

So since I wasn't able to get away for a beachy relaxy kind of vacation over the holiday break, I decided to have an LA-style vacation before I headed up to SF for a yoga retreat with young Stovielet and L'il Abner -- I figured, people actually come here for vacation-type experiences, so I could do it myself. I made a list of excursions, found companions for many of them, and headed out every day for a week. There's an awful lot to do around here! And the-good-weather-most-of-the-time thing really helps. Anyway, here's some of the prettier stuff, which I really meant to post in a more timely fashion, but it's not like I've been doing anything photogenic since then (and I caught sight of myself coughing the other day, and boy, that wasn't pretty).

One fine morning, Rabbitlet and I headed out to the marina and spent some time kayaking. The rental shack was surprisingly festive --
I'm still not sure how they got those balloons inside the other balloons, obviously some kind of miracle of modern science.

The kayaking was not nearly as scenic as some other places I've been,
but there were still things of interest to be seen. Nicest of all were the birds, like the pelicans,
cormorants,
and grebes,
along with other nautical elements.

Many of the boats had funny names, although they were all forgotten by journey's end (except for Good Vibrations, coming out of San Francisco, which I really feel shouldn't be allowed unless it's the boat of the sex shop owners), but I liked this one because it resembled nothing so much as an Imperial Trooper.

Really, don't you think? Maybe it's dangerous catamarans like these that make kayaking into a deadly sport that requires a long and somewhat hyperbolic caution label.

We met up with the Stik on a nearby fancy street, filled with boutiques and galleries, and he treated us to little gem-like dessert madness. Mine was beautiful,
and filled with chocolatey caramelly goodness. Other desserts were perhaps more festive,
but certainly not tastier (and I'm not sure I'd ever really want lavender infused throughout my cake -- my feeling is, if it's in a perfume, I probably don't want to eat it) (this includes all thing civet, by the way).

After looking at what seemed like thousands of chi-chi tchotchkes, I headed back to the beach for the sunset, which was, for a change of pace, really quite lovely.

The other photogenic parts of my LA vacation were all on my hikes (that mountain lion was, I'm sure, very photogenic, but I kind of didn't manage to catch it on camera). On my first hiking day, I went up a mountain to the northeast, and on the second day, I climbed a ridge trail to an ocean overlook. Both hikes provided amazing views of the area, and made me wish I had web access on the phone just so I could figure out what I was looking at -- instead I had to take a lot of photos and then check out Google Maps first thing to try and calibrate the overhead view with what I had seen. Fellow hikers, it turns out, are often not the best source of information -- for example, this guy sharing a bench with me at the top of the first peak told me that the thing I was pointing at was a famous cemetery, when in point of fact it is a contentious landfill in a public park.

Views from the northeast looked like this
and this,
while views from the oceanside park looked more like this.

A lot of the beauty in wintertime comes from leafless trees and bushes and plants sticking up into the sky.

More ordinary flora, like oaks and moss and native flowering bushes, were also quite nice, of course.

Of course, you can never pretend you're in serious wilderness at any time -- there's always some sign of humans that preceded you, be it unofficial and kind of hippie-esque
or kind of official.

I thought it was funny that the steep dirt firetrail, with switchbacks and everything, that I hiked to reach the top of a peak is apparently designated both a boulevard and a motorway, while not really appearing to be a prototypical example of either one. Well, car is king here!