The backyard table at the Apple Farm (Emily Nathan) [enlarge photo] MARCH 2005 ISSUE • Table of Contents • Dream Destinations Around the World • A Romantic Trip to Italy • Driving Mendocino County • How to Buy a Bikini in Rio • 50 All-Star Family Camps: The 2005 List • Ecolodges Let You Sleep at Night with a Clean Conscience • Milking Your Manicure • Spain's New Golden Age

Attractions

Day two: Boonville to Mendocino

The road toward the Mendocino coast winds through the lush forest of Navarro River Redwoods State Park, where the air develops a chill. As in San Francisco, the climate is generally cool but punctuated with rare crystal-clear days that are close to perfection. (I'd find it significantly more refreshing if I weren't wearing flip-flops.) Our first sight of the Pacific Coast is when it's blanketed in atmospheric fog. What we can see: steep, craggy cliffs, crashing waves, and Victorian buildings with shingles hung out offering respite from the bracing outdoors. Here, B&Bs have their own official highway markers--with a little icon of a house--to help travelers find their way.

We drive past entrances to numerous state parks and beaches, misty views lending a bit of drama. Twenty minutes past the turnoff to Mendocino--we'll come back to that later--is Fort Bragg, a working-class coastal town with a remarkable array of musty shops selling 20th-century bric-a-brac. This is also the place to board the Skunk Train, a logging railroad turned into a tourist attraction. On the main drag, we stop at a hole-in-the-wall called Eggheads. Omelets, appropriately, are the highlight of the menu; less appropriately, the room is done in an elaborate Wizard of Oz theme. Still, I can't resist ordering the Wicked Witch Burger, which lives up to its name in spiciness.

Having been sequestered in the car long enough, we switch to exploring on foot. Our first stop is Glass Beach, a former city dump, where broken bottles have been worn down by the sea into glistening, colorful, translucent pebbles. We hike a few short trails at MacKerricher State Park, three miles north of town, then return to Mendocino. On the way, we detour at Fuchsiarama, an eccentric roadside establishment that carries everything from gargoyles to fuchsias, manly nautical memorabilia to gaudy costume jewelry--and serves free coffee brewed in the greenhouse. Huh?

Mendocino is a quaint mass of old Victorian-style buildings perched on a cliff. We arrive just as the sun is setting, and the early evening streets bustle with visitors of all ages and styles. At MacCallum House, a stately hotel, it's possible to people-watch in the bar/café while having a dinner of tasty appetizers. We're staying at the Mendocino Village Inn, which is connected to the Sweetwater Spa. Rooms at the inn and the spa include use of a communal hot tub, which we learn is clothing optional. After spending an hour or two in this New Agey town, frankly, I'm not surprised. We upgrade to a private tub. By 10 p.m., the streets are deserted. I sleep like a baby--that is, until I'm awakened in the middle of the night by the exotic beat of bongo drums thumping in the distance.

Day two