Santa Cruz

When I arrived at UC Santa Cruz for a weeklong conference on Charles Dickens, it took me about a day to realize that the beautiful blue on the horizon wasn't just the skyline---it was the merging of the sky and the sea from an Olympian vantage point, where Santa Cruz ends and where Monterey Bay begins. I loved everything about Santa Cruz: the vista views, the Redwood trees, the carnival beach atmosphere, the hipster vibe, the eco-mindedness, and the awesome campus signage. I learned from these signs how to defend myself from a mountain lion (i.e., hold my child Simba-style to appear as one large manbeast); to beware the concussive (and scatalogical?!) possibilities from professional treesitters (i.e., impact from falling objects may result in serious injury); and how to encourage the mating rituals of Ohlone Tiger Beetles (i.e., Trail Closed: endangered species, critical mating cycle).

I also appreciated the sustainable practices on campus: every toilet was outfitted with water conserving flushers; recycling bins outnumbered garbage cans; one had to seek out a paper cup and lid from the dining hall (i.e., bring your own cup!); composting was encouraged; wild deer graze the campus grounds; and donation bins around campus made for a "no-waste" move-out season. By the end of the week, I knew to carry my own utensils to restaurants (I'm going Renaissance--bring your own knife, er, spork!), to drive with the windows down (does this have something to do with the forest fires? I'm still a little confused by those signs...)*, to avoid plastic bags or pay a fee for paper bags, and to dress warmly in the morning for the foggy chill and cool in the afternoon for the summer beach temperatures.

The architecture was similarly striking: the pink, green, blue, yellow, and orange California bungalows matched the colors of the landscape, and I imagined that the interiors looked like photos from Apartment Therapy. Everybody rode bikes while looking hipster fabulous, or they drove retro Mercedes sedans (my dream car these days---but good luck finding one in the Midwest without a snowsalt-induced rusty undercarriage) or plug-in cars. In fact, all of the primo parking was designated for electric vehicles---I felt like a jerk driving around in my Toyota Camry gas-guzzling rental car.

Although the beach was a little bizarro with the roller-coaster and greasy food, once I went out on the wharf and away from the boardwalk, I really enjoyed the view, the waves, and the sea otters that congregated under the wooden planks of the walkout. I stopped by Marini's Candies to buy a box of saltwater taffy to bring home to the family, but I ended up eating at least a quarter of the box while wandering around at the beach (stomachache!).

But of course, the best part of the trip was the Dickens Universe on Bleak House...thanks for introducing me to Santa Cruz and for including me in the Dickensian conversation!

*Years later, after re-reading this post, I'm convinced the signs for rolled-down windows must have been an advert for natural air versus air-conditioning???