We had enjoyed an absolutely stellar vacation, but it was nearly over. Everything had gone right, and we had even had a few serendipitous extras that were highlights of the trip.

The ride home was also a part of the vacation. We always enjoy riding the Southwest Chief. It has great views, it's a big, spacious train, and the vibe is the best of all the trains we have ridden.

That's no idle observation. Lorna and I have ridden virtually all of Amtrak's long-distance trains: the Lake Shore Limited, the Sunset Limited, the Crescent, the Empire Builder, the California Zephyr, the Coast Starlight, and the Southwest Chief. We have ridden a number of them several times, and we agree the Southwest Chief is the most fun to be on. This trip was no different.

When we finally left the broad western horizon of the Pacific Ocean behind us, we had good incentive to cross the rugged coastal hills to the valleys of the wine country. It's a gorgeous area everywhere you look, fine for driving and exploring down roads that barely appear (or don't appear) on the maps. Drive by hunch! This is no place for a GPS. GPS devices come with built-in serendipity destroyers.

We have been to the Wine Country several times, and each time we get better at it. The first time, back before the turn of the century, we drove up the Napa Valley, visited some wineries and tested their wares, and thought it fun. On the next visit we planned ahead and drove up the Sonoma Valley, dutifully stopping at whichever winery we had on our list, checking them off as if we were still at work.

After one more morning in Santa Cruz, we spent a wonderful day in San Francisco. We covered a lot of ground; fortunately we had a plan going in and we hit all of our objectives.

The weather was beautiful, and that's never a guarantee in the City by the Bay.  We parked near Fisherman's Wharf in an all-day garage that was not as expensive as I had feared. Then we walked along the waterfront, looked out at Alcatraz, and did more people-watching than window-shopping.

One restaurant we passed proudly proclaimed itself "Home of the 60-ounce Margarita" or some such silliness. It was really crowded, so we headed off toward the famous Ghirardelli Square.

Along the way it was impossible to miss the fact that Fisherman's Wharf is still very much about the seafood. Seafood restaurants are everywhere, and fresh fish markets with Pacific seafood piled high on great glaciers of ice. It was lunchtime but we were not yet even remotely hungry, and there's plenty of foodie awesomeness in San Francisco to we continued our explorations.

We spent the next day and a half in Santa Cruz, visiting with friends, shopping Pacific Ave, and exploring the boardwalk, the long pier, and the pleasant streets of that fine small city.

I posted a smallish (43-photo)  photo album over at Facebook; if you've never been to Santa Cruz, it's worth a look. If you have been there, you might check it out just for the memories.

We arrived late, after a long drive from Morro Bay along Big Sur through Carmel and Monterey to Santa Cruz. We met our Greek friend Hector, who naturally took us to one of my favorite restaurants in California - The Greek!

I went to Greece in 1995, and I remember drinking Greek wine and grazing on little bites at the taverna with my friend's family late into the evening. That's just what we did in Santa Cruz that evening, drinking Greek wine and feasting on dolmas, saganaki, skordalia, horta vrasta, spanakopita, and other Greek delights as we caught up with Hector.

Everyone who reads this blog knows how we love scenic drives, and one of the most famous outside of New England is the drive up the Pacific Coast Highway along Big Sur. We knew we would have time in Los Angeles at the end of the trip, so we got a car and hit the road! By lunchtime we were shopping in Ventura, and we spent our first night on the road in Morro Bay.

We stayed at the Best Western El Rancho just north of town and gave it good marks. I have reviewed almost all of the restaurants and hotels and many attractions that we saw throughout the trip; you can find them on TripAdvisor.

Morro Bay is a pretty harbor best known for the island in the middle, often referred to as the Big Rock. You don't see it in all its glory here because of the fog, but that's not unusual in Morro Bay.

Morro Bay is not a big town, but it is scenic and it enjoys close proximity to the celebrated Hearst Castle, which we planned to visit the next day.

The Lake Shore Limited and the Southwest Chief both have termini at Chicago's Union Station, so both coming and going we had some hours to explore the downtown area while we waited for the latter train to board.

There's a lot to see in downtown Chicago. To start with, Union Station is a big, bustling place for people watching (on the return trip we chatted with some zombies from a 5000-zombie flash mob that had just finished) and some fine Art Deco architecture. Just outside the door you can strain your neck looking up at the Willis Tower (formerly the Sears Tower) just across the canal. And about a 15 minute walk to the east is a string of parks and museums along the shore of Lake Michigan.

After a brisk walk to stretch our legs and work up an appetite, we had a very nice lunch at Russian Tea Time - a fancy establishment with a beautiful collection of samovars and an extensive bar. I could not resist trying the trio of house-infused vodkas (coriander, black currant, and lime) with a dish of pickled herring and some black bread.

Lorna was able to resist that gustatory delight and contented herself with a stuffed chicken breast and a Coke. 

This is the first of a series of entries that more or less track our Foodie Pilgrim Grand Transcontinental Adventure. I say "more or less" because it won't quite be a day-by-day relation of events, but more a series of possible day-trips that you might enjoy if you some day take a similar journey. This installment describes the trip to Chicago aboard Amtrak's Lake Shore Limited.  

We left Plymouth on the 9am Plymouth &Brockton bus, arriving at Boston South Station after a comfortable and uneventful ride.  Lorna had a light lunch at Cheeseboy, a small chain. I noshed on a kabanoszy from my store of provisions. I had stocked up on goodies from The Cheese Shop in Concord and from Baza Market in Newton because the food on the train can get pretty boring.

It's maple sugaring season! This quintessential New England flavor is enjoyed all year, but it must be made in the fading days of winter when the sap is rising in the trees but they can still freeze at night.

We spent two Saturdays exploring the sugarhouses of southern Maine learning the intricacies of maple syrup making.  We visited Hilltop Boilers in Newfield, Cooper's Royal Heritage Farm in Windham, and Goranson Farm in Dresden. It was a lot of fun, and very interesting. Here's what we learned.

Maple syrup comes from the sap of sugar maples, black maples, and red maples. At this time of year you can see plastic or metal buckets equipped with roofs hanging from maple trees all over New England. A gallon of syrup requires on average about 40 gallons of sap, and each tap produces 10 to 20 gallons of sap, so the buckets must be emptied frequently over the course of the season, which lasts about 6 weeks.

Mead is making it big in New England. There's good reason for it to do well, as another artisanal product in a region that hes been very good for foodie artisans. Even Yankee Magazine has noticed.

Mead is not just for Vikings anymore. It is one of the most ancient fermented beverages, known from many cultures around the world. It is brewed from honey, but the honey-sweetness varies greatly from very sweet to very dry depending on how you ferment it.  

Honeymaker Lavender Mead paired very nicely with a savory fresh ricotta tart made by Annette for our mead tasting dinner. It would make a lovely Valentine's Day dinner.  They make a variety of fine meads; I selected the lavender because I thought it especially suited Valentine's Day and because Annette loves the scent of lavender.

I love visiting windy, rocky Pemaquid Point in the winter. The rocks there are dramatic, long banded fingers of stone with crashing surf on all sides. It doesn't look like anyplace else in Downeast Maine. The lighthouse is photogenic, there are picnic tables and rest rooms, and it's easy to reach from Damariscotta and Newcastle, and even from Boothbay Harbor.

Our destination after Pemaquid Point was in the farm country just on the other side of Route 1. I had read about Oxbow Beer and even sampled their flagship Farmhouse Pale Ale at Le Garage in Wiscasset. I knew they brew a line of "freestyle" one-off brews and other interesting brews, taking full advantage of the flexibility offered by their small size and dedicated following.

We were not disappointed! We chatted with Celeste and Jake, two young but very helpful and knowledgeable employees (Lorna also got to meet the cute and furry Director of Security, Matilda Barncat).

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