California day 5

August 5

This morning we finally stopped "treading water" near Agoura Hills, the town where we picked up our van, and finally started our forward progress across America. We checked out of the motel in Newbury Park where we'd slept 3 nights out of the past 5 and set our sights eastward – all the way to West Los Angeles! Before leaving, however, we availed ourselves of the laundry machines. Who knows when and where will be the next time we can do laundry? I contacted Franklin and Sharon, friends we made while they were in Israel who are back in Riverside now, a distance to the east of LA. Sharon's parents had been guests at our Passover Seder and were pleased to invite us to stay with them this night, the Sabbath eve. We will stay with Franklin and Sharon Saturday night, so we will have a chance to appreciate the generosity of this family twice over.

Today we visited the estate of the Huntington Library, Art Gallery and Botanical Gardens in San Marino, California, near Pasadena, a location that has been on my bucket list a long time. I have a well-thumbed book on cacti that has helped me identify the ones in my collection. This book has photographs of some of the most exemplary cactus collects in the world, one of which is here (another is in Monaco, which I have already seen and wanted to compare to this one).

Getting across Los Angeles using the vast network of freeways that swirl into, through and out of the downtown area is an amazing exercise in patience and nerve, and requires a good sense of direction and navigation skills. Our GPS simplified the navigation aspects. I may eventually adjust to the van's loose steering, but as I try to project into the future, I don't think I will enjoy struggling with this issue the whole time. I long for a normal highway with only two lanes in each direction, just to see if that will be easier to steer on than these multiple lane roads.

We reached the Huntington Gardens and I discovered how extensive and beautiful they are. There is an admission fee, and since Razelle was neither capable of covering their vastness, nor interested in their contents, she stayed outside the gardens on a comfortable bench in the shade. She actually came equipped with two novels to read until I returned from viewing the grounds at my own chosen pace. I promised to take no more than two hours, just as I had at the rain forest in Katoomba, Australia. Razelle was sitting next to an interesting woman when I left them. Two (and a half) hours later I found Razelle near where I'd left her, still together with this same woman. They had spent the whole time enjoying each other's company and talking about their respective lives as teachers. Razelle's newfound acquaintance is half Japanese and half Swedish; a very interesting combination of features and cultures.

The cactus and succulent garden on this estate is so spectacular that I have to say there is truly no comparison with Monaco's Jardin Exotique. The number of species is so impressive, their labeling so meticulous, and the esthetic arrangement and care in grouping them is so educational and pleasing to behold, that, as I looked at the Huntington collection, I realized there is no longer any point in me adding to the collection I already have back home. I ought to just pamper what I have and abandon the notion of ever having "one of everything." I would need a garden this size and this demanding of attention were I to follow that thought to its extreme (I've always know this, of course, but this garden hammered the point home).

We drove back through Los Angeles once more at the height of rush hour. From our perch in the van above the roof line of all the cars sharing the blending ribbons of converging freeways, along with ours, we saw a broad shimmering sea of different shades of metallic paint and glinting auto glass, stretching all way to the horizon, its braided lines of cars ever so glacially advancing, in slow motion, into, out of and among lanes and entrance and exit ramps before us. No parking lot I've ever seen in my life ever contained this many vehicles; yet these were rolling along, not static at all; they did not roll along as one unified mass, yet their forward motion did not occur in a way that differentiated faster lanes from slower lanes, either. We stared in fascination at this shimmer sea, oblivious of the fact that we were part of this mass and it stood between us and our destination.

Sharon's parents met us at their home. We had met before and pretty much picked up where we had left off with our friendship. We got settled in our room and visited with Lora and Jerry, listening to their experiences as travelers in their campers to remote beauty spots in America, many in areas we plan to travel to or through ourselves. Lora, like me, has a love of maps and brought out a few for us to go over to review the routes and road conditions we could expect on them.

Razelle lit Shabbat candles and we said the blessings over wine and bread before eating the grilled salmon Jerry so tastily prepared. Razelle praised his cooking; ordinarily, she doesn't eat salmon, but she had seconds. We talked a while longer over the meal, but I was worn out from driving and apparently I had become dehydrated while walking around the cacti at the Huntington estate and needed time to get over it. I went to bed ahead of Razelle. She woke me later to have me help her prepare an email she wanted me to send for her but I couldn't shake off my sleepiness and we didn't succeed in following the programs commands and getting it sent. Tomorrow is another day.