Sebasto-Cruz

I had been making my way down Highway 1 toward Monterey.  After watching a beautiful dark pink sunset on the coast I stopped to get a snack.  I was in the northern end of Santa Cruz.  I waited as some other people ordered in front of me.  We chatted about how nice the weather had been that day, etc.  Eventually one of them asked me where I was from since I mentioned being on a mini-road trip.
"I'm from the northbay - Sonoma County," I replied.
"Oh, I love that area," a woman responded.  "Especially Sebastopol.  I had a cousin that lived there and I visited her a few times."
Her friend shared a story about attending a massage workshop in Sebastopol.  The instructor sent them out one morning to find some students to practice on.  She ended up scaring quite a few people off, according to her, by sauntering up to them and offering free massage.  "I guess I didn't really explain I was taking a class.  They just thought I was walking around downtown trying to massage people."
"Well, you were in Sebastopol," someone remarked.  "I'm sure it wasn't that unusual.  It's not like you were in Vallejo.  Then that would have been strange."
A couple standing behind them, who looked like they could have walked out of the crystal shop that was on Main Street in Sebastopol for many years, chimed in.  They lived near Calistoga at one point but loved visiting Sebastopol.  "The best Thanksgiving dinner I ever had was in Sebastopol," the man said.  "Although it was actually vegetarian.  And the pretend-turkey didn't cook all the way through.  And we had more Indian food than American food - but what a great feast."
His partner, wearing a large garnet pendant that matched his, nodded in agreement.  "Lots of curried vegetables and naan," she remembered.  "And the pumpkin pies did not turn out but there was baklava to die for." 
As I listened to their stories it occurred to me, I'm not sure how but I have become a magnet for all things Sebastopol. 
Even in Santa Cruz.


Most surreal moment:
Standing in front of Milk and Honey talking to two Mormon missionaries.  "So," one of them asks, pointing to a sign, "tell me more about the Goddess Crafts Fair.  Does that happen every weekend in Sebastopol?"
("No," I respond, but thinking to myself, if there was a town that hosted such a fair every weekend, it would be this one.) 


Favorite line of the week:
One of two people (strangers to each other) hugging:  "No, we have to reposition this way to hug so our hearts are touching."