|The long and winding tracks...|
For years, I've wanted to ride the Amtrak Pacific Surfliner from LA to San Diego, but there's never been a reason. With three kids, strollers, car seats, luggage, frequent snack and potty breaks, weird schedules, etc., it seemed as though taking my well-stocked Suburban (our family "train") was a better choice. Now that the girls are older (ages 8 to 12), our traveling has changed to include other options.
For example, Raf has been wanting/needing some time alone to surf, sit on the waves and not talk (a rare thing in our household). When we discussed taking our kids to San Diego for Thanksgiving, it made perfect sense for him to go a day ahead with his truck and get some well-deserved surfing in.
"And," I mentioned casually, "the girls and I can take the train down and meet you..."
|Waiting for our train|
The train station in Ventura County was super clean, with lots of safe, free parking (but no restrooms). Our train was running about 10 minutes behind, but it was a beautiful, sunny morning on a holiday week, so everyone at the platform was in pretty decent spirits. When the train arrived, the conductor greeted us cheerfully and directed us to a 4-seater area right at the top of the stairs. The next time I go, I'll be sure to grab a seat on the EAST/NORTH side of the train in Ventura County because, after the train links up to the other cars at Union Station, it goes BACKWARDS out of L.A. and then you'll wind up on the WEST side (make sense?).
And then, my friends, you'll have a perfect view of the gorgeous beach real estate of South Orange County, including my favorite beach town of all time: San Clemente. Surfers, swimmers, beachcombers, families BBQ-ing and picnicking under the pier-adjacent palapas... It was the next best thing to being right there on the beach...
And all without the stress of traffic and driving. I read my Kindle, laughed with the girls, and just stared out the window. I drive so much, I'd all but forgotten the simple joys of just watching the world go by as a passenger.
I lived in Italy as a teenager and train travel is a way of life there. But in our car-obsessed society, I found a joy in traveling on the Pacific Surfliner that reminded me of the glee of riding on "California Soaring" at Disney's California Adventure. It celebrates the beauty and scenery of our state. Truly, there is no place like home, and the Pacific Surfliner is the train equivalent of Dorothy's sparkling ruby slippers.
|My girls crowding the window to take pictures of surfers at Trestles.|