Anzo–Borego–Desert to Oceanside, CA
When we start in the morning we are still in the desert with the typical patches of grass and sage scrubs. The night had been absolutely quiet. The campground is so huge that you don’t even see your next neighbor. After an hours drive the fences reappear to both sides of the road. We had them almost forgotten. Then came the bushes and more bushes, then a tree, more trees, a forest. Did I say I did not like trees, well, that was yesterday. Trees can be wonderful. We pass through a landscape that reminds us of home, home beeing the Austrian and Swiss alps in this case. We pass Lake Henshaw and take the road to the top of the Palomar mountains where we have a breathtaking view up to the ocean, except the clouds blocked our view. Somehow your view into the far distance always seems to be blocked either by trees, by clouds, mist, fog or smog. Something is always in your way.
Down in the valley
on our way to the coast we pass through orange and citrus orchards. We had left the barren desert only a little while ago and now oranges were gleaming in the sun. What a wonderful world.
Oceanside / Carlsbad is a nice little city where even modest homes are well kept, grass trimmed and flowers oiled (or what they do to flowers to make them look nice) and sans junk. We had gotten so much used to junk cars messing up the countryside that we were surprised how orderly Oceanside appeared.
We spent some time at the boardwalk, watched the seals doing their spiel and talked to a lot of dog people. Harpo loved them all and they loved him.
I put my feet in the ocean, it was as cold as expected although there were some teenagers in the water and in the evenig we had fish and chips in a restaurant at the harbor. They did not serve the fish in old newspapers as is the law in England but they made up for this with plastic forks and knives. The fish was great anyway.