Cambria, California
(Jack)
We have spent the last two days in Big Sur, camping first at a small, private campground in the redwoods near the town of Big Sur, then last night in a much nicer campground near the ocean. I used to be enchanted by Big Sur. Not only the wildness of ocean, cliffs, redwoods and sea life, but also the people who lived here created an atmosphere that was a respite from the frantic pace of L.A. We hung out on the beach below Bixby Creek bridge, explored the redwoods in Palo Colorado Canyon, listened to Big Brother and the Airplane on radio stations from San Francisco. We thought places like Esalen, Nepenthe, Big Sur Inn, etc, were the epitome of the big Sur groove. But eventually the place became a caricature of itself, the gentle artists replaced by burned out hippies, rednecks and Angelino emissaries after the buck. beatniks out to make it rich. The last time I stayed at the big Sur INn, in 1978, the concierge, leading us to our musty room littered with the dust bunnies of bygone pretensions, whispered, "this place is magic." Right, if you can stop sneezing long enough to enjoy it.
Then, yesterday, we happened across the big Sur Bakery and Zocalo art galleries. Staffed by 20- and 30-something people not wearing tie-dye rags or reeking of patchouli, the place felt a lot like the old scene revitalized by a younger generation who loves the landscape and wants to create a fun, inspiring place in it. The espresso and pasteries were excellent, the gardens beautiful, the whole place clean. The Zocalo galleries are a collection of outdoor and indoor spaces for displaying artwork and for workshops for kids and adults. They are currently working on dioramas for a party celebrating Dia de los Muertos. It was nice to see that Big Sur speaks now to a new generation, for whom it is neither cliche nor phony disneyland dollar-grabbing version of itself.