The Social Network

Answers on a postcard...

We woke up to the familiar companion of brutal hangovers. Will attempted to shake his with an early blast in the freezing Pacific, Tom tried to run his off with a 10k jog down beach, while Mike favoured the 'roll over and sleep it off' approach. All attempts met with limited success.

After a few intriguing minutes following the fortunes of a sordid affair in the next room, watching the guilty parties as they said their awkward goodbyes and left in seperate cars, we fired up Spot and rejoined the now very familiar highway 1. As we left Pismo, with the glistening ocean on our right, we witnessed all manner of vehicles congregating on what is one of the only drivable beaches in the States. The stretch of super compacted sand was a hive of activity as trucks, modified motorbikes, even full scale RV's powered along the perfectly flat surface. 

With Spot strangely timid at the suggestion (we suspect he might be scared of water), we left the experts to it and headed on to Santa Barbara with a plan to visit the vintage motorcycle museum in Solvang. As we cruised into the town, it was like we'd left America completely and turned up in a wierd hybrid of Denmark, Holland and Sweden. The entire town was bavarian-themed, in an American theme-park kind of way. Danish flags lined the streets and most of the Alpine cabin inspired buildings were bakeries or gift shops. Hundreds of tourists wandered the streets, enjoying the sun and marveling at the clusters of smoke-filled bubbles that floated in the air.

Hidden amongst these unlikely surroundings was the motorbike museum. As we waited in the quiet European style square, for the museum to open, we got talking to Jeff, a custom motorcycle parts dealer who had made the pilgrimage here and later revealed he'd been in the pit crew for some seriously big races. We listened to his fascinating insights on the impact of the recession on the country's auto industry and how it was changing people's behaviour - Americans were now considering if they really needed a garage of 5 Harleys. The museum finally opened and we spent a couple of hours taking in the intricacies of these beautiful machines - Mike took a worrying shine to some of the equipment, taking time to make sure he got sufficient 'reference' footage for his 'personal collection' - probably best not to delve too deep into how those are going to be used. 

A 'European style' panini was a welcome break to the constant intake of fried food necessary in the American diet, and the idyllic setting next to a burbling fountain in a sunny courtyard was completed by humming birds darting between the flowers. Scared of appearing gay, we immediately strode out like real men, downed a pitcher of Bavarian beer, wiped the foam from our thick manly beards, burped loudly and did a bad-ass roll across Spot's hood. Fuck Yeah!

In a cloud of smoke from an awesome burnout, we hit the highway again, this time with Santa Barbara in our sights. The road took us up over a dramatic mountain range and as we broke through to the other side we were treated to a spectacular view of the city down below, with the instantly recognisable silhouette of the Channel Islands on the horizon. We dropped down the mountain face and soon found ourselves cruising along a palm tree lined boulevard running parallel to a white sand beach. Hotel prices along the tourist-heavy beach front were a bit steep, and after our plan to pitch Will's tent in a motel car park was denied, we switched to plan B and found the tourist information centre.

Here we got a tip-off for a cheap motel tucked away down the road. The location was ideal - a short walk into town, minutes away from the beach, and we could practically fall into the pool from our door, which we noted as a potential hazard when we inevitably got hammered. Will and Tom instantly jumped in the pool, while Mike booted up the Top Gun soundtrack on his I-pod and took a run down the beach mouthing Danger Zone as he went! 

Refreshed, we set off into town with the low sun dramatically lighting the rows of palm trees. Naturally, as we were in a seaside location, our British instinct kicked in and we sought out fish and chips. It's not as rare as you'd think in the States, this example was a cafe set up by an ex-pat, complete with framed photos of famous British landmarks, weirdly including the Bull Ring in Birmingham. The food was spot on, and a much welcomed nostalgic taste of home!

A brief scan of the main high street revealed a deluge of bars and nightclubs, all gearing up for the night. A couple of beers and a game of pool in an eerily empty bar told us that we would need to wait until the city came to life, so we filled in the gap with a quick cinema visit to see the Social Network (awesome). When we emerged from the movie theatre, the town had transformed. The previously deserted bars were now packed, most with 'lines' (queues) spilling out onto the pavement. Wishing to maintain high standards of research scrutiny, we sampled a full cross section of establishments. We eventually ending up sharing buckets of coronas with a group of friends from LA, around a fire pit in an open air bar where palm trees were a structural element of the building! We slowly wobbled home.