The California Road Trip Issue

Storied Soundscapes

The magic behind Carmel-by-the-Sea’s Fairytale Cottages

Click, click, click.

I am walking up, up a hill and up Ocean Avenue and there is a camera shutter winking or the brushing of weathered pages or the flutter of a bluejay’s wings, and all I can think about is how lovely it sounds, how wholly mundane yet all-enveloping it is.

I think I’ve been sedated with sound.

…

The soundscape of our vehicle, a rental courtesy of Oakland International Airport, is tranquilizing. It is the hum of rubber tires spinning on asphalt, of AC flipping from on to off due to its indecisive passengers, of a scattered queue of songs that can only be described as auditory whiplash.

Before our eyes, the landscape unfolds like we are unwinding a reel of film. The scenery changes so gradually that I don’t process it and then all at once, we are exiting the city of Berkeley; we are passing through sprawling acres of planted produce in Watsonville; we are rubbing elbows with the Pacific coastline. I ponder the age-old quip that “you blink and they’re all grown up.” Something about this venture encapsulates this fluctuating timescale. I find that time does not pass linearly.

…

When we are Here, I’m not sure what distinctly separates this destination from the dozen-or-so stops we have already pulled into on the side of the highway (“Do we want to stop?” “Yes! No! Pass!”), until we step out into the neighborhood, an array of streets climbing up above the surrounding area, and there is no other sound or soul or sign of life.

Traveling in a car of five within a larger group of 25, I am acutely aware that this is the first time I’ve heard more silence than sound in a full day. Or maybe it’s much longer than that, maybe it’s more like many days or weeks or it’s been years since I’ve experienced this kind of silence. Silence that grows and changes and maneuvers inside you, that works its way out and then swallows you whole.

Through an unvoiced agreement, the audio tour we’ve had buzzing in the background is quickly turned off.

…

I used to find beauty in the city skyline, in the stacks upon stacks of high-rises and for the most part I still do, though I do find it a bit perverse to consider this a view, to seek beauty and grandeur in this site where the nature that once stood was destroyed.

This is not how Hugh Comstock’s cottages exist, though; they embody fluidity and movement and work to accommodate nature, instead of the other way around. I note a fence with gaping holes weaving around an ancient tree, as if the structure grew and adapted organically as well. The fairytale cottages break up the monotony of life I am used to in every way, of the structure and sharp lines of neighborhoods surrounding, of the hustle and bustle of people being passed by time.

We are removed from reality and what replaces it is the whimsical spirit of handpainted signs and stirred nostalgia, animated lace lichen draped over coast live oak branches stretching down to greet, our muted footsteps and shared appreciation.

…

When I will return to Carmel a month later to take more time, take more stops, and embark on a hike in Point Lobos, I will share my favorite soundtrack with my friends — Yes, “How to Train Your Dragon: Music from the Motion Picture” — and as one of us pauses to tie a shoelace, a hiker in passing will say “I find it really antisocial that you are playing music.”

And I wouldn’t understand then but I think I understand now.

With that being said, the following is the soundtrack to our trip.

gold rush / Taylor Swift / evermore

Marvins room / Drake (Take Care) / Deluxe

Let It Pass / Jakob / bedroom tapes

Genghis Khan / Miike Snow / iii

4’33” / John Cage

pyramids / Frank Ocean / channel ORANGE

Valerie / Amy Winehouse / Back to Black (Deluxe Edition)

Turned Out I Was Everyone / SASAMI / SASAMI

Soledad y el Mar / Natalia Lafourcade, Los Macorino / Musas

Kendall Drive / The Polar Boys / Now That’s What I Call Polar Boys