En Route To Neverland

I wasn’t sure my legs would make it. Or my feet, for that matter. Something about completing a two day, 39.6 mile walk to end breast cancer had me convinced that my body would be rendered useless. Much to my surprise, however, I was full of energy, boosted no doubt by the endorphins pumping through my veins, the memory of the woman I was walking for - my late, beloved grandmother - and the pending gift to myself for honoring her memory: a trip to Neverland.

Santa Barbara had already been so good to me. She has a way of making you feel like you’re the first to discover her. College-town quiet, her bougainvillea vistas are like something out of a Monet painting. Her thick, billowy clouds hover close to the ground, nothing short of magical. On the walk, I trekked through neighborhoods adorned with pink balloons, mulch-lined, coastal trails and restaurant-filled streets with scents luring catches of the day. I liaised with fellow walkers, happy to be present in those moments we knew we’d never forget. I proudly crossed the finish line with sweat in my eye and a smile on my face.

That collective spirit all but disappeared as I drove out to Los Olivos to visit the Neverland ranch. Traveling on the 154 West, the landscape morphed from sweeping landscapes to a single lane, dirt paved road. The definition of remote, I drove past acres of seemingly uninhabited land browned by the California sun. Time slowed here. The road became bumpy and narrow, no fit for my rented Camry that pumped song after Michael Jackson song. Sure I was lost, I felt foolish for taking this journey solo and decided to turn back.

On the way back, I saw a woman parked on the side of the road next to a nondescript wooden gate enshrouded in stone on either side. “Excuse me, do you know where Neverland is?” I asked her. “This is it,” she calmly retorted. I had already driven past it, convinced it was much too plain to be Neverland. It wasn’t until I got out of the car and got closer to the gate when I knew where I was. Hand written notes in black, white and silver marker adorned every square inch of the gate. Some were carved. Even the light fixtures were riddled with messages of love from fans the world over. I pulled out a pen and added my words to the wall. Suddenly, I was overcome by the same magnificent energy I felt during the walk. Strangely comforted, I said a little prayer. My feet were no longer heavy. I knew I would make it back home just fine.