We awoke the next morning groggy, disbelieving that we surrived the night. We unforunately were only able to sleep for 6 hours, not nearly enough time to forget the living nightmare from the night before. We took in our surroundings, a tiny town, very western and rural. At the suggestion of the hotelier, we breakfasted at The Crazy Horse Resturant attached to the hotel itself. Since we didn't have time to drive around, and it was pretty clear that there were no other eateries to drive to, we walked on up and had ourselves a seat.
While the plaques on the wall suggested that The Crazy Horse was the "Best in Monterey" for the past ten years straight, our experience deemed otherwise. Although there were many open tables, two thirds of them hadn't been cleared from the previous patrons. Once we got seated, the waitresses were running around to everyone but us for a good five minutes. Once we were finally served, we found them flighty and a little duh. When someone orders Scrammbled Eggs, and the waitress proceeds to asked "How would you like your eggs?" You know you've got a situation on your hands.
After leaving unsatified with burnt toast, runny eggs and warm water, we walked next door to the gas station and bought ourselves some coffee for the road and got the hell out of this creepy little town.
The remainder of the drive to San Jose turned out to be a straight shot. We passed through endless stretches of farm country and about an hour and a half later arrived at our destination, unscathed by any more mountainous perils.
Luckily we had arrived with about two hours to spare however, as the first hour was spent driving around looking for a parking spot. Little did we know that almost the entire section surrounding the Arts Center, would be closed off for a Cinco de Mayo celebration.
While parking was scarce and it became tiresome trying to manuveur the roadblocks, it really was a brilliant and festive sight to behold. I didn't get many pictures since we were driving, but the colors and vigor are certainly etched in my memory.
Once we finally parked, we got out and walked around, enjoying a bit of the festivites, a few local parks and the performance hall itself. We eventually found ourselves inside sitting eagerly in our seats, waiting for the performance to begin.
The first piece was a Mendelssohn Symphony danced very traditionally by ballerinas in tutus. We were immediately disappointed to find that after coming all this way, much to our dismay, the music was not performed live, but was pumped through a very large set of speakers. A recording. There was no orchestra in the pit. Not a musician in sight. This is NOT what we had hoped for.
Alas, after the first act was over, The Firebird began, and although we yearned for an orchestra performance, the ballet itself held it's own and by the end you barely noticed that the music was pre-recorded. The Firebird herself was an incredible dancer, lithe and agile, graceful and flitting. The rest of the cast were equally elegant and talented and drew you deep into the story, the music and the soul of the performance. As the finale boomed throughout the theatre, I was moved to tears.
I still hold to it that I want to see the music performed live before I die. This was a good primer, and we left happy.
We of course decided to take a DIFFERENT route home, so we hoped onto RT.5 and made a beeline back to LA. Although we stopped twice, we made fantastic time, thanks in part to Nick and also the 70mph speed limit through the countryside.
So concludes our weekend adventure. Surely we'll have another to share soon. Hope you all enjoy the photos!!
Cheers.
Breezer Bree
