You Can Go Home Again

For my second and last day in LA, I ventured out to explore a few places on my own, the first of which was to stop by my childhood home. I wanted to see if that house, neighborhood and my nearby elementary school were as I remember or if some things have been revised in my head over time.

As I found myself turning onto Citronia Street, my old street, most of it seemed refreshingly familiar. I recognized the house of a childhood friend just as I turned into the neighborhood and the blocks I used to walk toward that house on the way to school. I came to the intersection that marked the beginning of my block. This is the corner where I famously (at least to my family) ran away from home, but didn't go past the corner because I wasn't allowed to cross the street....a rebel and rules abider all at once.

As I came to my house, I recalled the neighboring homes that surrounded it and the neighbors I knew well that once lived in them. Looking upon my own house, I was reassured to find it much as I remembered it albeit quite a bit smaller than I recalled as a kid (its all relative when you're small, I suppose). I was somewhat disappointed to find that the current owner didn't seem to be giving it quite the TLC my parents had. It wasn't in bad shape, but just lacked the personality it once had. Regardless, it was good to see it and the neighborhood after so many years.

On my way out, I stopped at my old elementary school which was across Balboa Blvd from my neighborhood....and aptly named, Balboa Blvd Elementary. Despite generally enjoying my classes and the creative/influential teachers I had in my years there, the most vivid memory I have of the school is the playground. It was massive. An asphalt potpourri of dodge ball, kick ball, tether ball, hand ball and any other ball related sport without fear of one running into the other. I was somewhat surprised to find that it looked even bigger as an adult than it did as a kid. Sure, it didn't take me as long to walk around it, but it's still massive and providing hours of enjoyment for a new generation of kids.

From there, I decided to make my way up the coast a little and check out the town of Ventura. I've heard a lot about it recently, but had never been there. It's a cool little surf town about 45 minutes northwest of LA. Turns out it's a nice getaway from the zaniness of LA without having to drive too far. It's got a quaint downtown area with main street shops that are still mostly local (albeit one Starbucks) and seem to thrive fairly well. There are a few beach areas to choose from nearby, some of which were within walking distance of the downtown area. I'm hoping that if I go back there in another 10 years that it hasn't changed much despite its proximity to LA sprawl. Some places are better left untouched.

I headed back toward LA proper along a stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) that I'd never traveled before. I usually don't get further than Malibu on PCH. Little did I know that beyond Malibu was an idyllic stretch of coastline driving with breathtaking scenery at every turn and straightaway. It's picturesque with scenic mountains on one side and the Pacific on the other. I stopped and soaked it in periodically along the way.

Once I reached Malibu, the typical weekend logjam of traffic was in full effect. But, if you're going to be stuck in traffic, this is place to do it. The monotony of stop and go is quickly distracted by postcard scenes, surfers and waves crashing the shore. All in all, I returned more refreshed at day's end than when I began.