Ain't no party like a West Coast party...

I have returned from the arid western edge of America back to its moist and pulsating heart. Sigh. It was a good run.

"What were the highlights?", you may ask. They were many. See my picture essay below. The best part of my trip was, of course, hitting the refresh button on two treasured friendships from my days on the golden shores of Bengal. Another source of delight was my vindication in validating the stereotype of West Coasters as extremely friendly and...well... "hella laid back." Everywhere I went with my Clark University sweatshirt, at least one person stopped me, whooped excitedly and told me that their sister/daughter/best friend graduated from Clark. If someone did that in Boston or New York, they'd probably have a cap busted in unappealing places.
The SanFransisco MOMA, where I squealed with delight at seeing originals by Mark Rothko (no. 14, 1960---AVG, I thought of you!), Diego Riviera, Andy Warhol, Frieda Kahlo, Jackson Pollock, and Marcel Duchamp. His piece de resistance, entitled "Fountain," is probably the most influential urinal in history.
I found two of these guys in Karishma's back yard. They are bigger than the turtle-shaped kiddie pool I used to have when I was a baby. Nota bene: 40lb. desert turtles do NOT enjoy being picked up. They actually growl a little when you try.

"Excellent...a wonderful bouqet...I can taste the butternut squash and ham notes...with a birch finish."
We smiled as if we could tell the difference between an "oakey chardonnay" and a "dry cabernet." The wine guy at Nicholson Ranch gave the selections cute names like "The Sean Connery wine" and "The Hugh Grant" so that we could remember them.

The Eyes of the Buddha are watching you...from this garage in Haight-Ashbury.
The Blue Bottle Company: a tasty coffee shop desperately fighting the tides of trendiness. Their coffee is so good that they have to be secretive about its location in order to fend off the tourist mobs. The whole shop is basically a garage with an espresso machine in it. They just open the door and customers stand on the sidewalk sipping as clandestinely as possible.
Yes, I do. I forced my friends to display their stickers proudly whilst in the Napa Valley in the vain hopes we would get some wine tastin' discounts. The only thing I discounted, perhaps, was my probability of scoring a date.

Ah, San Fransisco's famous Mission district. Burritos and cultural diversity at their best.

The Pacific Coast Highway. Of the Things that Make Me Go "Mmm," this would be my number one. Stunning. Hollywood lives Highway 1 for filming scenes of the "European countryside."

On the beach at Malibu. I almost slipped off this rock and died. Twice. But it was worth the series of "queen of the rock" snapshots.
Monisha and Karishma's Dad, gettin' deshi wit it. Whenever there are more than 2 Bengalis in a room, there has to be a Rabindrasangeet sangeet.