It was two days before Thanksgiving when my husband, Benjamin, and I stood on a jet bridge in San Diego awaiting our flight north to San Luis Obispo. It had been a rough month of deadlines, diagnoses, and drama that rattled us enough to prioritize living in the moment.
My reflection in the window looked as tired as I felt. Kneeding the bags under my eyes, I told Benjamin, “I want to just be.”
He nodded, knowing that this made perfect sense, despite the fact I spoke in a dangling verb hungry for its noun. Lately, we had lived in verbs, “stressing, fearing, crying, praying, working,” and now, oddly enough, “traveling.”
But this was an escape trip, one spontaneously chosen because we wanted to run to a place we knew nothing about. It was our chance to push reset and stay close to home but far from reality.
And so, we chose Central California.
As serial travelers, we’ve been known to chase the glass half full, seeking bold pours that somehow reward us for not reading the label. Our blend of choice was Allegretto Vineyard Resort in Paso Robles, which could as easily have been Tuscany.
Lavender fields and dormant vineyards greeted us at the entrance, overshadowed by Mediterranean gardens and a Romeo and Juliet tunnel that spilled onto a piazza. Marble statues and olive trees had me questioning how an Italian dream bloomed in Paso Robles.
Halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco, El Paso de Robles (The Pass of Oaks) was pinned on the map for its hot springs, almond orchards, and Southern Pacific Railroad. Yet its innovative cowboys and vineyard pioneers kept it there, making it a wine-lover’s destination with over 200 wineries.
Despite the passage of time, it’s the type of place where the farmer, wine maker, and owner are all the same person, clinging to the fertile Salinas River Valley.
Just ask Douglas Ayres, who plucked the low-hanging cluster after 13 years with an eye on the prize. As a fourth-generation hotelier, Douglas purchased 20 acres that would later become Allegretto, meaning “cheerful tempo.”
But in 2006, the music went silent when Douglas learned that his 15-year-old son, Dylan, was killed in a car accident on his way to Mammoth. In a quest for healing, Douglas embarked on a spiritual journey that took him from a Pentecostal church in LA to a silent monastery in the desert. Rather than grieving, he committed to work on his “inner garden” from 2007 to 2010.
This global pilgrimage gifted Douglas with enlightenment, spirituality, and artwork that reemerged back “home.” Today, those valuable assets are what make Allegretto a purposeful property built with intention.
The resort itself is a living gallery featuring French limestone, Venetian plaster, Italian gazebos, Murano chandeliers, Cambodian tables, Indian teak, Buddhist statues, Greek amethyst, and over a million dollars’ worth of commissioned works. In the shutters and bell tower are pops of teal and aqua, Dylan’s favorite colors. The masterpiece is Star Garden Trail, a walking journey through 12 stations of the constellations.
We tasted the stars through a flight of the hotel’s wines, our favorites being Tannat and Heart of the Vibe. During vineyard tours and art walks, we experienced the tranquility and rejuvenation that Douglas longed to share. Despite being part of the Ayres Hotel empire, he considers Allegretto his personal “story of joy” where he mingles among guests and introduces himself as “the gardener.”
As we soon discovered, Douglas was just one of many locals holding the bottle high. In Paso Robles, there are Michelin-star chefs, award-winning restaurants, budding brewmasters, jazz clubs and visionary vintners, all digging their heels into the small-town charm.
Our taste buds awakened at Fish Gaucho, leaning into its coastline proximity and Mexican heritage with one of the most impressive tequila and mezcal lists in California. They hooked us with shrimp ceviche and ahi tacos and reeled us in with sea bass and lobster enchiladas.
And then there was Parchetto, downtown’s latest culinary jewel with Italian-meets-Californian cuisine in a swanky bistro setting. Seasonal, local, and sustainable options had us torn between braised oxtail, tuna tartare, duck confit croquettes, and lamb shank.
While eating may be a cornerstone of our travels, so is nature. Santa Margarita Ranch heard our cry with their Nature Adventure Tour that had us boarding a retired-military hummer, opening cattle gates and exploring the historic 14,000-acre private lands.
From the Salinan-and-Chumash tribes to Franciscan missionaries, the ranch’s historical pedigree still echoed value in the valley. We saw it firsthand in the rich soil and abundant wildlife including eagles, turkeys, deer, and boar.
Among Mexican generals and rambling outlaws, a notable owner was Joaquin Estrada, a colorful ranchero granted farmland in 1841. His fiestas and rodeos made Santa Margarita Ranch a gathering place for generations, including the three current owners—the Filipponis, Rossis and Wittstroms—who have preserved its roots as a ranch and vineyard.
Outside the cattle guards is the unincorporated community of Santa Margarita, with some 1,000 residents landlocked by the ranch. Meeting their needs are feed stores and storefronts labeled “Provisions.” Today, quiet streets are named after Estrada’s daughters, and hats are off to Patrick Murphy, Estrada’s successor who helped bring the Southern Pacific Railroad to the area.
In the small-town mix is Ancient Peaks Winery, a stone’s throw from Margarita Adventures where zip-and-sip are on the menu. As thrilling as that combo sounded, we opted for just the latter, sampling blends crafted under Winemakers Mike Sinor and Stewart Cameron.
As one of 11 American Viticultural Areas in Paso Robles, Santa Margarita Ranch stands out from the barrels for its cool microclimate, marine influence and five diverse soils. In 2000, Napa winemaker Robert Mondavi knew a good thing when he saw it, bringing modern viticulture to the area. Prior to his vines were the Franciscan missionaries who planted grapes in 1780.
History aside, the present was on point at Ancient Peaks Winery, especially with their Pearl Collection reserve paired with a charcuterie platter. Leaning back in my barstool, I asked my husband if we should nap or hike. It really wasn’t a tossup, but our nature guide told us about a nearby lake worth a detour.
Next stop: Santa Margarita Lake, formed in 1941 by the Salinas Dam near the Santa Lucia Range. A 1.8-mile trail traced the fingers of the lake to Murphy Bay. From the peak, the lake resembled a puddle of paint awaiting Bounty to mop up the spill. Deer faced us without fear, and turkeys gobbled in the horizon, an audible reminder that, “Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving?!”
It was more of a question than a comment, building on a getaway that had the power to erase the calendar. Clearly, I found my happy place on those trails, and even more so the following day.
With nothing on our agenda, we swam laps, tandem biked and drove one hour to the coast where sea lions sprang in arches as if trained by rainbows. Between Avila Beach and Morro Bay, the Bluff Trail at Montaña de Oro State Park framed the dramatic shoreline above tidepools, chiseled cliffs, and rocky inlets. Curvy Old Creek Road back to Allegretto had us slowing for deer at dusk and Benjamin noting, “Well, there’s certainly less traffic than in San Diego.”
This was truth, recognizing the void of crowds once they were gone. The masses reappeared back at Allegretto’s restaurant, Cello, one of few eateries open for Thanksgiving. Allegretto did things right, and even pointed us toward other wineries that made the glass proud. Among them was Copia Winery, where ironically Douglas Ayres was wine tasting with friends.
Following suit, we embarked on the wine flight and culinary pairing, loving the wine as much as the owners, Anita and Varinder Sahi. With Varinder’s background in business and engineering, and Anita’s in restaurants and marketing, they had the perfect formula for wine making.
During their visit to Paso Robles in 2015, it was love at first sip. Setting down roots (literally), Anita and Varinder turned rows on 50 acres and 40,000 vines to produce Rhône and Bordeaux varietals. In 2017, they tasted the fruits of their labor with Copia (abundance or plenty). Since then, the estate has grown along with their popularity, thanks to their opulent wines with rich characteristics.
Yet Copia isn’t the sole vineyard with a story. About 45 minutes away in Cambria, our wine-tasting escapade landed us at Parr Collective Tasting Lounge at Stolo Vineyards. As a former dairy farm from the 1800s, the garden setting set the tone with sheep and sunflowers.
Behind each glass is Rajat Parr, an Indian-American sommelier-turned-winemaker. From humble beginnings as a waiter, he visited vineyards on his days off, eventually being named “one of the most celebrated sommeliers in the world.”
From Pinot Noir to Chardonnay, his wines are light bodied with little manipulation. Rajat is obviously doing something right, as coauthor of Secrets of the Sommeliers, and The Sommelier’s Atlas of Taste.
For us, our personal “atlas of taste” kept us in Cambria, a seaside village in San Luis Obispo County. Monterey pines paved the way to antique shops, art galleries and as many churches as cafes. We lunched at the Brydge, a former cottage from 1877.
From three generations of admirals to now-Executive Chef Elaine Rivera-Glenn, this current owner has a culinary background that makes a visit to Brydge worth bragging about. Prior to Cambria, she had her head over stoves at Chez Panisse in San Francisco and in kitchens in Spain.
All that experience culminated at Brydge, with a rotating menu inspired by the organic farming community blooming nearby. Shareable plates like roasted mushrooms with truffle oil, roasted beets with persimmons, and Petrale sole with fennel, had us both acting a little selfish on the “shareables.”
From there, we headed 15 minutes north to San Simeon. The historic Hearst Castle was so close, we just had to go. As the former estate of publishing tycoon, William Randolph Hearst, the house built in 1919 was “the place” for Hollywood elite to play. From Bob Hope and Walt Disney to Bing Crosby and Charlie Chaplin, the 1920s were the heyday of the 165-room estate. Among those, we toured the Assembly Room, Refectory, Morning Room, Billiard Room and Theater.
Sparing no expense was the indoor swimming pool with Venetian golden tiles.
“Well, I feel poor,” I whispered to Benjamin.
“I feel liberated,” he responded, referring to our minimalism.
From man’s creation to God’s, we soaked in coastline views where Highway 1 separated surfers from cattle. Another five miles north was Elephant Seal Vista Point, an alcove where hundreds of these hefty creatures shimmied to shore.
Saying farewell to coastlines and wineries, we went urban with two nights in downtown San Luis Obispo. It was less than an hour’s drive and worth the hype. Staying central, Hotel San Luis Obispo was our base, with modern rooms, a lively bar and a prime location off Higuera Street.
This hub of action meant we could walk to Scout Coffee Co by day, and toast to being present at Feral Kitchen by night. The latter was a funky-fresh restaurant with a cocktail menu that “raised our spirits” in the lounge complete with a library and disco ball. The marketing team (and chef) earn top scores for Bone Appetit (bone marrow), Duck Duck Frites (duck fries) and Braise the Bar (braised short ribs).
Between window shopping and battling over Pac-Man at an arcade, we let our hearts dictate our pace and path, taking us to Avila Beach. This walkable village hosts galleries, boutiques and Avila Pier with a smattering of beachy eateries and seafront dining. Blue Moon Over Avila transported us to southern France with its bistro chairs, ocean views, a menu of baked brie, escargot and Steak Au Poivre. Yep, we tried them all.
From there, we sweat calories at Sycamore Mineral Hot Springs in their hillside soaking tubs.
After a deep sleep and full hearts, we headed to SLO airport, stopping midway at Madonna Inn.
What started as 12 hotel rooms in 1958 expanded to a bakery, spa, coffee shop, dining room, cocktail lounge, and three gift shops meeting the needs of their kitsch following.
Pink is more than a color at Madonna Inn; It’s a pillar of strength, luring travelers from afar to photograph the Barbie-meets-Dolly Parton match-up of décor. Over breakfast, we must have counted half a dozen signature Pink Champagne Cakes bouncing by, renowned for three layers between whipped almond Bavarian cream.
“I’m so full,” Benjamin said, pushing away remnants of his corned beef hash.
Setting down my biscuit, I blurted, “I don’t want to go home yet.”
With no kids and a car full of gas, it didn’t require much convincing for a couple on the run from responsibility. As the realist, Benjamin threw out budget and weather as priorities. And so, we headed north.
The sunniest city in California, Redding was an economic move and a bold one at that. Looking at the map, Benjamin noted, “It’s a freeway surrounded by a town.”
“Or maybe,” I said with optimism, “It’s a town surrounded by a freeway.”
In the rearview mirror were gas stations, Weiner Schnitzel, motels, and a north-western vibe to match. I still held tight to my hypothesis. Regardless, for us, it didn’t come down to fancy hotels, nor the food scene, but rather nature. That was our purpose, to get outside and keep fueling. Our plan was to set up camp in Redding and to web out to Lake Shasta, Whiskeytown Lake, and maybe even try our luck at fly fishing. Welcoming us to Redding were cotton-candy skies pierced by Mount Shasta, the fifth -highest peak in the state.
That night, we dined at Pipeline, a brick-loft-esque hotspot with stellar crafts and elevated bar food profiling lamb burgers, ahi tacos and Reubens. We turned corners and followed the holiday lights, literally 2 million of them, at the Redding Garden of Lights. They had me at “glowing swings,” and kept me Instagram-ing with 10-acres of illuminated gardens synced to music.
By day, the sun overpowered the glitter of night, as we biked 15 miles beyond the Sundial Bridge along the Sacramento River Trail. The award-winning 17.4-mile loop framed the river, connecting over 80 miles of trails.
For lingering bites and “another round,” we found nourishment at Cheesecakes Unlimited with salmon wraps, Fusion Lounge with ramen, Evergreen with organic waffles, and Mosaic Restaurant with elk meatloaf. The food scene was eclectic, with cozy cafes and dive bars coming up for air.
The big win came at Lake Shasta Caverns, where we boarded a catamaran to cross Lake Shasta.
On the banks, we explored ancient caves resembling candle wax, coral, honeycomb, and lemon meringue. Another gain came at Shasta Dam constructed in 1938, as the second largest concrete dam in America.
With nothing but time on our hands, we dedicated an afternoon to Whiskeytown, a 42,000-acre national recreation area boasting 36 miles of shoreline and multiple waterfalls, both of which we explored.
Of all the trails we had trekked, it was a “zoo” and a lazy trout that brought me home. At the edge of Sundial Bridge, sat Turtle Bay Exploration Park, which ironically has nothing to do with turtles. Instead, it has to do with life-giving moments that start with rescued animals and ends with a full heart. From porcupines and opossums, to skunks and beavers, guests can interact with these “free-range” healers during daily parades and private encounters.
I might have cried.
Literally hours before our flight home, we rowed onto the Sacramento River with Darrin Deel from AC Fly Fishing. As a first-time caster, I failed miserably as my husband pulled in one trout after another. I clapped without spirit. And then my moment arrived, when the biggest beauty of the bunch tugged my line. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t wait to thank the puckering creature for gifting me a memory in Redding.
It was a moment where life below the river kissed the setting sun; where a jet bridge of exhaustion led me to a story of a man’s sorrow that built a sanctuary; where farmers had the power to turn grapes into wine; where rancheros could build kingdoms; where waiters could become authors; where fishermen could became guides; and where a couple broken and done could learn how to “just be.”
