Californication

Years ago, it must have been back in 2014, my girlfriend and I went to California for a dinner. It sounds silly to travel twenty hours for a dinner. Even more silly when I tell you we went there for only four days. Four days only. Twenty hours to get there and twenty back. We were invited to stay with friends in North Beach. Well, friends is probably a stretch. I had never met any of them before, but my girlfriend had met them or one of them once or twice. Americans are very hospitable in that way. Are you coming over for the dinner! Awesome! You can stay with us! I won’t hear about any hotel! Americans can be very awesome!

Entering the US customs for such a short stay with that purpose is also something of an experience. The officer starts with something that resembles small talk while checking papers, passport, fingerprints and takes a photo of me. Who was the last person you spoke with before leaving your country? Is New York your final destination and why not? Is it business or pleasure? What´s in California? Where will you stay and how do you know these people? All with a slightly overly suspicious tone in his voice. After almost an hour we came through – and could continue to the next stage.

After another seven hours in the air, we landed at John Wayne International Airport in Orange County California. The rental car was booked in advance. We had chosen a Ford Mustang convertible – and I had received confirmation that everything was ok. The problem arose when I, after signing, paying, and receiving keys, asked if this was a Ford Mustang convertible. No – it was not. This was a Toyota. But it says on the confirmation that I have reserved a Ford Mustang, and as an alternative it was stated on the form that I could get a Camaro convertible. It was the rental car company itself that had this as an alternative. It said nothing about a Toyota with a roof! So many people make reservations, explained the lady behind the counter – that we simply do not have any more Mustangs available. That is sort of the purpose of booking and reserving in advance…  But Toyota is a much better car, she tried. But I wouldn’t hear of it. I´m not leaving without a Mustang, I told her. I felt like I was in a Seinfeld episode where Elaine had the same problem. The mission is not to take the reservation – but to hold on to the car until I arrive, I remember Jerry saying. I said the same thing to the lady.

After much waiting, she had finally found a Mustang convertible at another rental service – and we could drive out into the sunset in Orange County California. I felt a little like John Wayne right then. Although John Wayne rode a different mustang than mine.

It was almost dark when we parked at the curb and switched off the engine. Is this the place I asked my girlfriend. She looked at the map and confirmed that this was the correct address. We got out of the car, across the street and opened the gate to the small garden next to a big double garage. We found no doorbell, so we knocked on the door. A tall man in t-shirt, baggy shorts and slippers opened. Before I could say hi, he smiled and said, Welcome! Come on in! Would you like something to drink? My wife is not home, and I was just about to go to bed. I have to get up early to catch the morning flight to San Francisco. My wife is there now. She mostly lives in the apartment there on weekdays and comes down here on the weekends.

The living room had a magnificent view over what I assumed to be the ocean as I could see a big black scenery with a lighthouse flash. There was a surfboard upside down on two wooden stands, so to start a conversation I asked if he was surfing. No, I paddle, but my wife surfs. There was also a riding saddle hanging on a stand, but I didn´t ask anymore.

Here is your room with a toilet and bathroom. Use the whole house! My parents live right across the street – so if there is anything, just contact them. I say good night now, and I’m leaving at five o’clock, so we’ll probably never meet again!

Do you have a key to the front door, I asked? He rummaged around in his pockets as if he expected them to be there. Ehhh, no he replied. Actually, I don’t really know if I’ve ever had keys to the front door. He looked like he was thinking about it. No, he concluded after a while. I don´t think we ever had keys. But how do we lock the door when we go out? Ehh, let the sliding door to the garden stand a little open, leave the TV on a little loud and leave the fountain facing the street on. Everyone will think there is someone at home! That’s what we do, he said and smiled. Never heard of any burglary here in North Beach. No never. Good night, he said and left us.

We stayed there for four days, and they never came back. There was a plane in the double garage, but we never knew what they used it for. I´ve never met any of my hospitable friends from North Beach again. Californians are awesome!