Tuesday 8 April 2008

Hey now. Hey now. Don't dream it's over.


There are dreams. And there are dreams. Dreams of delight, dreams of desire, of flight, of fancy. Then there are dreams. Dreams of death, dreams of destruction, of fear, of failure. Absorb and ache after the first. Ignore the latter or, perhaps, lie back on a sofa and tell someone who's being paid for the privilege.
Here's a dream for you. You've just left the biggest urban sprawl in the world and you're cycling along a busy highway with no end in sight and out of the blue, blue sky comes a sign. The sign says Carpinteria. Impulsively, you take it and you cross a bridge. Underneath the bridge is a brook which, unbelievably, babbles. Once across the bridge, you are presented with a small town. A faultless one. A town which urban planners should be forced to visit. A town whose seniors still care about politics. Obviously, it nestles between the mountains and the beach, gloriously combining to limit its growth. A town with a train station. Compact yet spacious. Busy yet relaxed. Friendly yet reserved. Solicitous yet understanding.
When you have this dream, act upon it and you will find yourself in a paradise for jaded eyes. Life will become more precious than before. Then, just when you think things can't get any better, you will happen upon the Corktree Cellars (Oh, and you will). Here you will find yourself in an oasis of humanity that doesn't do the math. A place where they have meat for dinner and the chocolate is calorie free!* Revel in it, thank your lucky stars that you happened upon it but never, ever expect to keep a secret.
Carpinteria is a town designed for life. It is to be cherished. Along with the chocolate.

*Except for the chocolate that isn't.

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