Made it to Oakland in the morning. It was cold for California--in the low 50s--and lyme-dry. The car we rented was a Dodge Magnum, even though the one in the manuscript is described as cobalt blue (I'm referring to Dryline Rhapsody, a novel I'd completed months earlier).
The whole point of the trip was to reference what I'd written about. And though the characters--Dean Oakland, Francis Rooney O'Day, and Grant Farrow--had essentially driven from LA to SF, we chose to fly there and drive back.
We crossed over to Berkeley and had lunch at this Armenian place not far from the campus. Ani and I have a penchant for doing this, I think; she's Armenian, and on this one road trip to San Diego we stopped off at Carlsbad and found yet another Armenian place where we over-indulged in cheesy eggs and whatnot.
So after sampling this place, we ambled into the hilly, Deadhead country to a Saab dealership in Walnut Creek where Ani was to buy a new car. Again--this didn't happen in the book, but it probably could have. It was getting colder now that the sun was setting; it was November and a cold snap was on the way.
The sun set on the beautiful land as we drove north toward Napa. Just glorious--lavenders and, at turns, somewhat wine-colored.
The inn was Victorian. Everything was wine-related, which I guess was sort of the point. And since it was mid-week, we were the only ones there--in the entire creepy place!
We napped for a bit then dined at this place in downtown Napa. It was a tapas bar. Since the wine was local, we indulged. And I can say with all honesty this stuff must've been 80 proof; Ani broke a glass, and I can't remember how we got back to the inn.
The next morning we had tremendous hangovers but decided to go wine tasting just the same. I kept thinking of that whole "hair of the dog" addage, but it didn't make me feel any better. It would be a long day of wine, for sure, but when in Napa...