Twenty-six miles across the sea. Santa Catalina is a waiting for me. Santa Catalina, the island of Romance, romance… I could hear the song in my head as we drove to the ferry.

"Just next to the Queen Mary. Can't miss it.”

We didn't. We got there with plenty of time. The guy behind the snacks counter suggested I buy the sea sickness pills, “You won't be boarding yet and there's plenty of time for them to take effect.”

“It doesn't look that bad. I think I'll skip the pills.”

“Oh.” He said and he pursed his lips and looked worried.

Right then I should have taken that as a clue, but I didn't. I went on the boat never knowing what the flag flying low meant. It means REALLY ROCKY SEAS!
I paid for my lack of knowledge the whole three hours it took to get twenty-six miles across the sea. It normally takes an hour at most, but the flag was low and the seas made a mess of the passengers.

As the island got closer we came out of the stormy clouds and I could see a little tower perched on a cliff and I wondered what it was for?

So when we got on shore, we just wanted to lie down for awhile, but it was really cool! It looked just like an island, you know? Pelicans flying around and boats and little shops and people in white shorts. Just like in a movie!

A line of taxies greats you and they'll take any landlubber to whatever destination on the island happily. “The Zane Grey pays for your pick up,” was also nice to hear.
We got in and I was surprised how we kept climbing and climbing up the side of a cliff to the hotel. It was sort of traveling to the crow's nest. That tower I had seen was across the street from the Zane Grey. It was an old abandoned bell tower.

We climbed adobe steps and stepped into Micheal's office where he has that huge buffalo head perched on the wall. Micheal is a poet and loves to have writers visit. An affable guy, he sat and chatted about writing and then he gave me the key to the Lost American.

Our room was neat and decorated sort of in early cowpoke with real leather boots nailed to the wall with a cactus planted in them. The view was the thing. The view we had was of the island, and it was yummy. It just makes you feel like you aren't at home. No highway sounds, no helicopters looking for celebrities, no loudspeaker announcing “Pull over to the curb!” The only thing that faced us was silence and beauty. We planted our bags and walked down the hall to a large room, which opened onto a porch. We walked outside and there was the bay and the moonlight. Ahh, the breeze off the ocean was so clean. The moon cast a glow on the waves that made my heart ache and I felt like, well… isn't this romantic.

It was.

The next day we got up and walked down the hill. Don't worry, there's a little bench you can rest on half way down. And I immediately felt my shopping sense tingle. It was kind of amazing how the day went. It rained, but it only seemed to do it when we were inside some place. The town was pretty deserted so shop keepers may have been extra friendly to us their only customers, but I got the impression that island life makes them that way. The best finds? The Steamer Trunk! Lots of really interesting items like really cool wind chimes – Glenn got one. And the little shop that I kept missing that was right at the bottom of the hill. It had some lovely plates in the display window – flowers and hummingbirds, God, they were beautiful.

Every place we ate was wonderful. You seriously can not find a bad place to eat. I challenge you to try. We went to a different place for every meal. Steve's steak house was not only good but the waiter's were super friendly. I'm telling you, island life does something to the attitude.

Maybe it's all that quiet. Gives you time to think.

We did cheat. After we had breakfast at the Pancake Cottage, we did a repeat the next day. Their pancakes and hot syrup are just too irresistible. It was like a drug. I swear, I have never tasted any pancakes like their seven grain pancakes.

The second night, we caught a taxi back to our perch on the hilltop, which is good because we weren't walking so good. You can really get drunk at all those little open air island bars. We climbed the steps and sat out on the porch and watched the sun melt like a giant red coin. We could see the boats bobbing in the moonlight and all the flowers were in bloom. And then a storm came up and lightning flashed and it was exciting to watch cozy like inside.

The last day of our retreat from Hollywood , we decided to explore the island by go cart. That's how everyone gets around on the island. Most of the taxies are go carts. Very few cars are on the island, it's some kind of island law or weird island thing or maybe they don't have enough room on the streets? I don't know, but it makes it quaint except when the seatbelt doesn't quite buckle and you are in the car with Buckeroo Bonzai! Almost lost me on the turn! But then I lived and it was sort of like taking a ride in Disneyland. You know that one where you can hear the horses hoofs clomping and dorky music plays? Except when you make a turn and stop you get out and there are fabulous views. Bring your digital camera and extra batteries!

We stopped at the Wrigley Memorial. That was kind of weird. The botanical gardens are well, like a desert. Because guess what? The island is a desert island. I was expecting flowers and big blossoms and I got ...cactus. A large number of varieties but they were still uh, cactus. I'd like to get excited over them, but I just can't do it.

Okay, their interesting and fun to photograph.

Then we went to the Wrigley's Memorial. I thought it would be a giant gum wrapper or maybe a statue of the doublemint twins, but nooooo. It was this huge cement structure. Now it was beautiful, but no where on it did it talk about Wrigley. No place on it did it say what his contributions were or even how many teachers were ticked off at him for chewing gum in their classes. Nothing. Reams and reams about the structure and the makers of the structure but no mention of Wrigley. I think I'd be wriggling in my grave if I were chewing gum king. There is a beautiful view from the top of the memorial.

So then we got back in town and took a walk out on the peir and there was this pelican standing tall and preening himself right on the dock. I pulled out my camera, and he ducked his head and he kept doing that for about thirty minutes. It was amazing. I've never met such an ornery cuss. He was very difficult to capture, but I finally did.

We sat in cafe's and walked the streets until the dinner hour and then Glenn decided to buy me a rose and invite me to dine with him in an open café. Ah, it was lovely.

And the flag was in the right place going home. No rocky seas. It was an easy ride back to the parking lot and a quietly restful and yes, Romantic with a capital “R” experience. I highly recommend the Zane Grey Hotel and Catalina. Especially if you are a writer.

Email Carol Wood at Carol@hazelst.com and ask for copies of her photos.

A lot more happened, but this is all I have room for. WAAAAAA!