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Magazine
POSTCARD FROM CALIFORNIA
Pastoral haven
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Carmel, where Hollywood takes its vacation, obsessively maintains its village ambience.
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There is no mail delivery. Walk up to the post office, it’s the social hub.
Photo: Geeta Padmanabhan
Laid-back: The idyllic Carmel.
September 8 was Dog-Letter day at Carmel-by-the-Sea. That afternoon, dogs of every breed, temperament and owner-profile milled around the fair ground for the 2008 Carmel Dog Calendar casting call. “Is your dog a star?” asked the advert. &
#8220;Now’s your chance to show the world. Casting call judges will select 12 lucky dogs to be professionally photographed for the 2nd Annual Carmel Dog Calendar sponsored by BARk, the dog culture magazine. Click here for entry forms.” The final couple of lines ... addressed to the four-footed royalty? “This year, you’ll enjoy a faster line, more entertainment, and a shot at being a star! Plus, a portion of the proceeds will benefit The SPCA of Monterey County.” That the dogs posed like pros is just a chihuahua matter. Carmel is where Hollywood takes its vacation.
Dog day, every day
This pretty, picture-postcard town on the California coast has gone to dogs. Common dogs have their day. Carmel dogs have their month. The Calendar-making event started on August 8, with the “world premiere” screening of the movie “A Day in the Life of Robbie”, starring Robbie the pooch, co-starring owner Mayor Sue McCloud. Attendance at the movie release was restricted to pets and hmm, their owners. Guests were served “pupcorns”. Shooting info tells you: “Robbie was a natural, and the Mayor also behaved herself.”
Carmel would win a “Dog Heaven on Earth” contest paws-down. Its canine-accommodating community allows pets into historical city sites, beach, hotels, restaurants and upscale retail shops — for a dog’s view of life? Doris Day, part-owner of the historic Cypress Inn, thrilled guests by allowing their best friends into the rooms at night. Now pet owners exchange dog calling cards and open bank accounts in their pets’ names. Makes sense, if your poodle routinely takes a fancy to $2,000-apiece collars. The pooch paradise has its pack of good Samaritans. “On Fire-fighting Day, canine volunteers outnumbered their human counterparts,” said the Mayor.
Carmel won’t disappoint a poodle-less pedestrian. There’s plenty to gawk at in the leafy streets sloping gradually to the beach. The history of the unmistakably European town goes back 240 years when Carmel was a sedate religious centre, not a starred tourist destination. By 1771, Father Junipero Serra had made the area his home and headquarters to California’s 21 missions. At one point, the mission was a self-sufficient city, with several thousand people living on the premises. The Mission is still around, with its parish, school, statue of Serra and California’s first library; only visitor interest has moved on. Tourists peek at the Mission Ranch beyond, hoping to see its famous occupant — Clint Eastwood. And hey, which one is Joan Fontaine’s? Did you see George Clooney at the coffee shop? Brad Pitt?
The beach is a pristine arc of powdery white sand — a seascape which James Franklin Devendorf, a passing attorney, vowed to develop into a haven for artists and writers, more than a century ago. With developer Frank Powers, he filed a map for the city in 1903. They planted 100 cypress trees on the barren potato patches on the coast and invited 16-year-old Michael Murphy of Utah to build homes in Carmel. The first Murphy House, built in 1902, is the town’s “Welcome Center”. Through the 1920s, Murphy designed and sold collectible Victorian houses for about $100, lot included. Murphy’s creations are still collectibles — for the rich and famous. Their values are so far removed from the original that realtors hang their pictures in gold-coloured frames. One restored house, quoted at $ six million, boasted: “Flooring of Italian marble, interior designed by XYZ, fireplace of hand-made bricks, roof has lichen-covered tiles.” Lichen-covered tiles? “We would be scrubbing it clean thinking it was mould!” said an aghast companion.
Quaint dollhouse
Thousands of honeymooners throng the beach, married in the Mission Basilica or elsewhere. For Carmellian romance check out the dollhouse one Hugh Comstock built for his wife in the 1920s. Neither an architect nor a carpenter, he created a cottage so quaint that the demand for Comstock’s “Dollhouse Tudor” homes (Tuck Box tea house, the Hansel House) made the young man a legend.
Carmel obsessively maintains its “village” atmosphere. Trees cannot be cut to widen roads. Houses have no addresses, streets have no lights or parking meters. No footpaths beyond the main street. Most shops close at 6 p.m. The interiors are lit, the door has a bracket with visiting cards — help yourself. The arrangement is fine. Window shopping is all you can afford here.
There is no mail delivery. Walk up to the post office, it’s the social hub. Want to find a place? You’ll get directions. “Would that be Periwinkle, sir? It’s the fifth on Milan Road. Look for the blue trim and driftwood fence.” By the way, it is bad luck to change cottage names in Carmel.
GEETA PADMANABHAN
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