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C
alifornia is possibly the most
exciting outdoor adventure
playground on the planet, and its
attractions, mountains, lakes and
rivers, beautiful coastline and
pristine beaches mean it’s
kid-friendly, too. My only reservation about this trip
with my two children – Ellis, nine, and Jemima, seven
– was whether 12 days would be enough to do it justice.
Our journey began in Los Angeles. I picked up a red
Mustang convertible (a road-trip cliché, I know) at the
airport. We planned to drive 1,000 miles, so the
expense seemed justified. By the time I had completed
the paperwork, squeezed all our luggage into the
sports car’s boot and navigated my way onto the
formidable six-lane highway in the direction of Santa
Monica, it was well past midnight.
Jet-lagged and disorientated from driving an
unfamiliar car on the wrong side of the road, the
kids bouncing their heads off the soft top and laughing
like loons, I started to question why on earth I had
thought attempting a road trip alone with two
children was a good idea.
When we reached Santa Monica and pulled up
at our hotel, Shutters on the Beach, we were welcomed
by an Oscar-winning smile from the parking valet,
and my misgivings disappeared. We checked in to
our room with a picture-postcard view of Santa
Monica Pier and fell asleep before our heads hit the
cloud-like feather pillows.
In the morning, eager to get to the beach, I reached
for the room-service breakfast menu. ‘WARNING:
chemicals known to the State of California to cause
cancer may be present in food or beverages served
here,’ it read. I laughed out loud, weighed up our odds
of survival, and opted instead for the Axe Restaurant
on hip Abbot Kinney boulevard where I
conscientiously ordered organic eggs and a side of
kale, washed down with reverse-osmosis purified
water. We left £50 lighter, but toxin- and guilt-free.
The kids ran ahead as soon as we stepped onto
Santa Monica Beach. They watched open-mouthed
the pageantry of outdoor activities, from Olympic-
worthy performances on metal rings to gravity-
CALIFORNIA
DREAMINGABI CAMPBELL and her two
children explore the west coast
on a 1,000-mile road trip
axe restaurant, santa monica
WESTSIDEUSA/CALIFORNIA
slack-lining, santa monica beach
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DRIVE TIME
Abi, Jemima and Ellis
hit the road in an
open-top Mustang
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defying slack-lining, joggers, cyclists, roller skaters,
surfers, volley ball players and yoga gurus, all
silhouetted against the big blue California sky.
Scanning the svelte bodies, I vowed to eat only
salad for the remainder of the holiday. Ellis had a go
at slack-lining and displayed a surprising aptitude for
it. Jemima defaulted to hanging upside down on the
rings for an hour – her favourite pastime. Should
they flunk at school, I’m confident they have the talent
to join Cirque du Soleil.
After a cursory visit to Santa Monica Pier, which
is as wonderfully tacky as any English seaside
promenade, we meandered along the impressive
4.5-mile ocean path to Venice, the Camden Market
of LA, with rows of tables selling second-rate art
and tawdry tourist tat. The highlight was a sunbathing
dog in a bikini called Lisa.
The following day, we headed to Paramount Ranch
in the Santa Monica Mountains for a slice of
Hollywood history. This is where Paramount Pictures
made most of its westerns. About 700 acres of it
are no longer used, but are open to the public for
trekking and picnicking. Stumbling onto an
abandoned Wild West town and playing cowboys
and Indians was a highlight of our trip, due, in part,
to the fact that it’s off the tourist circuit and you’re
unlikely to see another soul.
Down the road from Paramount Ranch is the
historic town (by American standards) of Cornell,
where you can step back in time and see the original
roadside country store and post office, which date
back to the 1800s. Bob Dylan and Steve McQueen
used to hang out here. It’s definitely worth a visit to
take pictures of the time-worn porches and sample
some homestyle cooking. Show me a child who
doesn’t like mac and cheese and chicken pot pies.
We took the 10-mile Canyon Road to Malibu,
stopping briefly to climb the white picket fence of
Reagan Ranch, where Ronald and Nancy were
famously pictured on horseback, and made it to the
beach in time for sundown at the aptly named The
Sunset, a pretty wood-clad restaurant on a quiet sandy
road with uninterrupted views of the ocean.
It would have been criminal to leave LA without
seeing a few A-list attractions, so I planned an
ambitious day, starting with a drive to the concrete
suburb of Watts. The neighbourhood has a shady
reputation, but is better known for Watts Towers and
its 17 soaring, bejewelled steel spires. These
unamusing amusements at santa monica pier
SANTAMONICAPIERISASWONDERFULLY
TACKYASANYENGLISHSEASIDEPROMENADE
HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD
Famous handprints on the
Walk of Fame. Top: Lisa,
the bikini-wearing dog.
Left: Paramount Ranch
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4. familytraveller.comfamilytraveller.com72
Gaudi-esque towers were created by Simon
Rodia, a semi-literate Italian immigrant tiler,
who spent 33 years building them.
It was a hectic race to Tinseltown to join
the crush of holidaymakers paying homage to
their favourite celebrities on the Hollywood
Walk of Fame. The kids loved holding
handprints with Harry Potter and Hermione
Granger at the TCL Chinese Theatre. We
grabbed a legendary Cali In-N-Out-burger for
sustenance before taking a whistle-stop tour of
Warner Bros Studios, arriving somewhat spent
at Sunset Ranch for our private ride. The horses,
while intimidatingly big, were well-seasoned
and walked happily docile in single file across
the barren hills for a full two hours, passing right
underneath the Hollywood sign. The views of the
setting sun over LA are epic from here and on a clear
day you can see for ever. It’s easy to visualise the early
settlers with their children in covered wagons
discovering the state for the first time.
The next morning marked phase two of our
holiday, and we headed north. An eight-hour drive
along 300 miles of coastal roads might seem daunting
with children, but with pit stops and scenery to die
for you hardly notice the time passing. Three hours in,
we stopped for lunch in Port San Luis, an authentic
commercial fishing harbour. Stepping out of the car for
the first time since we left LA, the smell of the Pacific
Ocean and the arresting sounds of the sea lions
barking from under the pier reawakened our senses.
The children watched wide eyed as fishermen with
leathery faces filleted their catch with the skill of
Samurai warriors, and gasped in delight at the huge
vats of pick-your-own live crabs, oysters and shrimps
in huge plastic vats. At the end of the 1,300ft sun-
bleached pier is the Olde Port Inn, an old-school
seafood restaurant with glass-topped tables, which
allowed us to peer down into the sea below as we ate
our fish and chips.
Heading back to Highway 1, we discovered Avila
Valley Barn, a farmers’ market that proved hard to tear
ourselves away from. It had a petting area of llamas
and gobbling turkeys, pony rides and hay bales piled
high for climbing, an ice cream counter serving
typically American flavours of cinnamon cream,
pumpkin, eggnog and root beer, and a little barn with
a leap of faith at AVILA VALLEY FARM
MAKING A SPLASH
Top: A welcome chance to
cool off at Big Sur.
Left: Pelicans check out the
pier at Port San Luis
a straw-scattered floor where you could buy freshly
baked apple pies, juicy peaches and just-picked
sweetcorn. We piled back into the car laden with
enough organic supplies to keep us going for a month,
leaving my salad diet in the dust.
The time had come to play my favourite Joni
Mitchel album, put the roof down and soak up the
vistas. I had purposefully vetoed iPads on this holiday
in favour of music, conversation and an audio CD of
Jack Kerouac’s On The Road. Ellis was in the front seat
and we were bonding big time. I know scenery isn’t
high on most kids’ list of favourite things, but I lost
count of the number of ‘Ahhhhhhhs’ that came out of
their mouths as every sweeping bend in the elevated
costal road revealed even more staggering panoramas.
Jemima observed, ‘Heaven is kissing the sea,’ and we
travelled in silence for quite a while, in awe of the
beauty of Mother Nature.
We got to Big Sur Campground and Cabins weary,
but in high spirits. We checked in to our cosy A-frame
log cabin, nestled among giant redwood trees and I
began unpacking the bags. I heard Ellis squeal, and
found him with a grin from ear to ear after a surprise
encounter with a skunk. We had arrived. I lit a fire and
threw on a few juicy rib steaks and let the children run,
torches in hands, to the campsite playground to make
new friends. I poured myself a glass of chilled Napa
Valley wine, and let the magic of the Big Sur take hold.
We woke to the smell of campfire smoke and
coffee. The children were up and out of the door
before I could get them out of their pyjamas, and I
encouraged them to enjoy the freedom. We spent that
day in the impossibly perfect river that runs through
the campground, riding down baby rapids on bouncy
black inner tubes hired from the office hut, swinging
on ropes like Tarzan and Jane over the deep pools of
clear, turquoise water.
There are lots of walking trails in Big Sur, with
spectacular scenery for those willing to break a sweat.
My children aren’t experienced hikers and I’m the
most exercise-allergic person I know, so I chose the
two-mile Valley View Trail in Pfeiffer Big Sur
you should see the one that got away
PONY EXPRESS
Exploring on horseback
gives you a whole
new perspective
WESTSIDEUSA/CALIFORNIA
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5. 74 familytraveller.com
State Park, put on my
happy face and trainers,
and dragged the kids
along. Within no time,
frowns were upside down
as they climbed on fallen
giants acting out scenes
from The Hunger Games.
There were challenging
moments when they
collapsed in protest saying
they couldn’t go on, but it
was worth it when we got to
the top and could see all the
way to Monterey. ‘Wow! It looks like an oil painting,’
I said breathlessly, turning around to find myself
alone – the kids were already racing back down
the mountain trail.
Less than a mile from the trails of Pfeiffer Big Sur
State Park is a long, unmarked road, which leads to my
favourite place in world, Pfeiffer Beach. The sea is
wild and relentless in parts. It’s not somewhere to
swim but, rather, to dance in the effervescent white
foam and stand arrested as waves cinematically power
through the neolithic Rock Arch. Stay for sundown
and you’ll agree. There aren’t words to describe the
palette of colours in the sky reflected upon the water.
Put it on your bucket list.
I felt genuinely sad to leave Big Sur, but I had to tell
myself it was a true
indicator of a successful
adventure. It was a typical
California day – not a
cloud in the sky and the
route inland on the 101
to LA was fast, wide and
awesome. We stopped in
San Luis Obispo for
lunch at Madonna Inn,
a landmark California
hotel that could give
Barbara Cartland’s
bedroom a run for
its money. We
over-indulged on
tri-trip beef and
barbecue sauce and
practically rolled out
of the grotesque, carved wooden doors.
Back on the road, we spied Pismo Beach in the
distance and took the next exit to explore the sand
flats, dotted with families picnicking out the back of
their pick-up trucks and watching the kite surfers
floating past. The beach was backed by sand where
tweens were whizzing around on dune buggies.
When we finally arrived back at Los Angeles
airport, I reluctantly handed back the Mustang keys.
I am a California girl at heart. I long for my children
to surf at weekends, soak up sunshine for more than
10 days a year, make and sell homemade lemonade
on street corners, take snowboarding day trips to the
mountains in the winter, and raft, camp and trek in the
summer, to go to high-school proms, celebrate
Thanksgiving and to be, well, American. n
CAMP AMERICA
Jemima can’t
wait to go back.
Below: the super-
kitsch Madonna Inn
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CALIFORNIA:
THELOWDOWN
HOW TO GET THERE
Virgin Atlantic flies from London to
Los Angeles from £536 return
(virgin-atlantic.com).
Car hire for 14 days costs from £819
for a Ford Mustang and £311 for a
Toyota Corolla, including unlimited
mileage, with Hertz (hertz.co.uk).
WHERE TO STAY
Rooms at Shutters on the Beach, Los
Angeles, cost from £460 per night
(shuttersonthebeach.com). Tent
pitches at Big Sur Campground and
Cabins cost from £30 per night;
caravan/trailer pitches from £40 per
night; cabins from £260 per night
(bigsurcamp.com).
Rooms at Madonna Inn cost from
£150 per night (madonnainn.com).
familytraveller.com
the best sunset ever on pfeiffer beach
THEREWERESOME
CHALLENGINGMOMENTS,
BUTITWASWORTHIT
PHOTOGRAPHS:ABICAMPBELL
familytraveller.com 75
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