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Escape to CatalinaAvalon, CatalinaCan you believe that the swine flu was the reason John and I finally made it to Catalina Island? When you live in Orange County (a hop, step and giant leap from Catalina), you think "I can always visit Catalina sometime" and it never happens. So when our cruise ship announced that because of the swine flu, we were visiting Catalina Island instead of Ensenada, the "sometime" became "now". And I wasn't disappointed. Our first sighting of Avalon (what a romantic name) was this beautiful cascade of white buildings hugging the sandy bay. Rows of white yachts hung like lace on the sapphire ocean. And perched on one end was the historical Casino where renown big bands used to play. I couldn't wait to get ashore.
One of the things that give Avalon so much life is its artist community. Terracotta tiles, hand-painted with vibrant colors, showed up in various architecture; walls, street benches, table-tops and one very striking public fountain. In fact, they are so much a part of Avalon's character that the tiles are sold as souvenirs. Even the street signs were artistic creations and every now and then, you come across an intently-focused artisan, bent over his work.
It was nice to note that the residents (we can spot a tourist a mile away) are laid-back. Life appeared to have slowed down on Catalina Island. It made us painfully aware that our daily lives were much too hurried and so often, the important things just whiz by in a blur. So John and I sauntered, hand in hand, with ne'er a care in the world. We had lunch at an adorable Mexican restaurant called Mi Casita. The restaurant is located on Claressa Avenue, facing the ocean. There was an enclosed courtyard on the second floor, complete with a fountain and glass ceilings. What more could you ask for? The food was good but the margaritas were better. They claim to serve the best in town. Needless to say, we had a great time. We left Mi Casita, happier and a little buzzed. Perhaps that was how we wandered into a little courtyard, not visible from the main thoroughfare. I think it was the music that drew us. What a lively band, I thought, till we entered the enclave. There, surrounded by a cluster of shops, was this solo musician on his guitar, belting out Santana's "Evil Ways" and making a good job of it. The rest of his band came out of a boombox. He was doing brisk business as a small crowd had gathered and some were dancing. John is a Santana guy at heart so we grabbed ourselves a corner table and sat down to be entertained by pseudo-Santana. I had to sit down because the infectious music was making parts of my body move in ways that could be embarrassing.
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