Bad but not so bougie: How to have a lowbrow ball in ritzy coastal Cali
The Golden State’s coast is often typecast by outsiders as a privileged commune of high-income hippies, decadent dot-commers, solar-powered surfers and limousine liberals. For good reason: California is the land of haughty, avocado toast-munching utopists.
Except, that’s not the whole story.
Despite its coddling climate, geography and ritzy neighborhoods, surfside Cali is not just a Shangri-la for snobs. After all, this is where gangsta rap was invented, where “atmospheric rivers” wreak havoc, and even the sea otters swipe surfboards up in this piece. It’s why the edgier, vice-eyed visitors to both northern and southern halves of the state love it.
Want to get bad, hold the bougie, West Coast-style? Here’s where to dare.
Gambling in San Diego
Flying into San Diego is a bit like X-winging through the meridian trench of the Death Star; you’ll land uncomfortably close to its downtown skyscrapers. But proximity to the fast life is the appeal. Those aren’t tauntauns you see running around the famed Del Mar Racetrack (the only one on the sea), founded by Bing Crosby in 1937. Those are the ponies — with fun names like Fluffy Socks and Miranda Rights — the crested-blazered and glamorously gowned are boozily betting on.
New to the sport? Gotham-born Frank Scatoni — whose charmingly thick accent screams, “Give me a gabagool, provolone and vinegar peppers” — can show you the ropes. A former editor of the HorsePlayer Magazine, he leads a free seminar at the Hacienda Room Patio every Saturday and Sunday where his picks, delivered in very entertaining fashion, will have you trifecta-ing, quinella-ing and daily-doubling in no time. Put your skills to the test, Nov. 1 to 2, when Del Mar will host the Breeders’ Cup, considered the Superbowl of horse racing.
Stay: Land a room in the upper levels of the 1,190-room Hilton San Diego Bayfront looking out over Petco Park and you can kinda, sorta catch a Padres game for free (from $183).
Vanlife in Sonoma
Richard Nixon had some not-so-flattering words for the Russian River Valley’s secretive and restricted Bohemian Grove — but doth-protest-too-much Tricky Dick was definitely in attendance. Illuminati types of all kinds have visited this hyper-hedonistic bacchanalian circus in the redwoods, which dates back to 1878 (Alex Jones made his bones infiltrating it back in 2000).
But these days, the real action around these Northern Cali parts, just 90 minutes from San Fransisco, is at the nearby and kiddo-friendly AutoCamp Russian River. If you’ve never bore witness to the silvery glory that is an Airstream trailer, they’re like giant Coors Light cans on wheels you can live in.
The ones here are fully furnished with showers, beds, sofas, kitchenettes, microwaves, flatscreens, even WiFi. The forested park comes with fire pits, game tables, gardens (try the salvia!) and great vibes. Rate start at $479.
Stay: For a more conventional, but not-at-all-boring stay, head to neighboring Guerneville. It’s home to Mine + Farm, a quaint, nine-room ranch turned B&B under the aegis of the adorable couple Suzanne Szostak and Bryce Skolfield (plus pup). Their breakfast bacon and egg brioche sandwiches offer a Bohemian Grove-worthy orgy for the taste buds (from $275).
Stalking in the OC
She can track them down, even when they don’t wish to be found. She knows how they move, how they breathe, how many kids they have. She knows where they go, and when they’ll go, precisely clocking them. Her name is Delaney Jena Trowbridge, she’s 24, a licensed captain, and she’s as relentless as that bonkers stalker lady on “Baby Reindeer,” except her baby reindeer are blue whales.
It’s counterintuitive, but the largest animals ever to have existed — and that includes dinosaurs — are quite furtive and some of the hardest to track. But the brilliant and possibly telepathic Trowbridge can, in seamless, true olly-olly-oxen-free form. She, of Newport Coastal Adventure, will take you out on magical meet-n-greets with them (from a safe, watchable distance) as they come up for air and spout off in perfectly timed intervals (for us, it was every 17 minutes; patience is a virtue). Accompanying pods of dolphins will likely join in on the fun in the opulent ocean waters of Newport Beach (from $84.50/pp).
And if you’re any sort of an “Arrested Development” fan, you know the money in the banana stand. Put yours in Sugar ‘N Spice on Balboa Island for the best frozen bananas on Earth after the Bluths’.
Stay: If you think 160-room Balboa Bay Resort‘s car park out front is impressive — packed with German-, British- and Italian-made eye candy, as it is — just wait till you see what’s out back. That’s its Marina, where punny-named yachts of all shapes and sizes can dock. Make fast friends with their respective owners at the hotel’s A+O bar if you’d prefer a bougie vacation, after all (from $297).
Hitting the bottle in Santa Barbara
When the movie “Sideways” dropped, this up-market Central Coast wino-tourism spot had its moment in the sun — and despite the sequel being stamped on like so many pinot noir grapes, the valley hasn’t died on the vine.
Thanks to its directionally challenged Santa Ynez Mountains that run east-west instead of north-south like the normies, it enjoys a bizarro Western Mediterranean climate that makes its wines coveted by even the nerdiest of Napa-loyalist sots. Not surprising, then, day drinking is the national sport here and Foley Estates, Lincourt Vineyards and Firestone (please donate to the local musician playing at the latter, even if they do have a corny “get tipsy” sign on the jar) are the top spots to get your guzzle on.
To walk off the buzz, hit the city of Santa Barbara’s Funk Zone, a quirky, 13-block area of downtown chock full of restos, craft breweries, art galleries and surfboard dispensaries. Take a free public or $30 private tour of all that funk with local legend John Ummel who’s always at the ready with a laminated bible of local fun facts and history.
Stay: Spare the receptionist any Eagles jokes and just bask in the mission-chic beauty that is the 121-room Hotel Californian located in said Funk Zone, however mazy it can be at first. It’s equal parts Spanish and Moroccan in style (sporting quatrefoils a gogo) thanks to designer extraordinaire Martyn Lawrence Bullard. Don’t let having to use a crosswalk scare you away from its lovely slightly off-site spa (from $474).
