Photo: Laura Josephs

Laura and I landed at LAX and drove an hour and a half north on the Pacific Coast Highway to Ventura. We passed through Malibu, a town of homes costing as much as $30 million—even in this era of economic meltdown. You can’t mortgage a multimillion dollar house, so Malibu homeowners aren’t under water like so many other less fortunate people.

We are staying at the Ojai Retreat, a lovely group of restored cottages set in five acres of rolling grassland studded with live oaks. They still grow oranges in this part of California. The air on our private terrace is scented with jasmine and orange blossoms. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering why I left this place.

Ojai has attracted spiritual seekers and healers for decades. The New Age is alive and well in this town that is chockablock with spas, retreats, holistic health centers and meditation retreats. Meditation Mount is one such; a particularly beautiful and restful place to visit. Laura and I drove out there to spend a couple of quiet hours.

Besides a meditation center, Meditation Mount features a peace garden, with wandering paths and breathtaking views of the Santa Ynez Mountains.

A sign at Meditation Mount summarizes the philosophy of many who live in this pristine part of the world: Don’t smoke, don’t throw rubbish on the ground, and turn off your cell phones. The owner of the Ojai Retreat boasts that his lodgings are telephone- and television-free.

Ventura Harbor is home to a small fleet of commercial fishermen and an armada of pleasure craft. My family met at a seafood restaurant here for lunch. It’s always good to buy fish where it’s caught.

On the last day of our long weekend, we drove a half-hour north on the Pacific Coast Highway to that Shangri La of the Americas, Santa Barbara. This view of Mission Santa Barbara, backed by the Santa Ynez Mountains, was taken from the tower of the county courthouse, less than a mile from the beach. When winter weather conditions are right, sunbathers on the beach can view show-capped peaks just a few minutes’ drive away.

Mission Santa Barbara was founded by Father Junipero Serra. He advanced Spain’s claim to the California Coast by building a string of missions from San Diego all the way past San Francisco to my old wine country home, Sonoma. The missions were spaced about forty miles apart—a day’s ride by horseback. Father Serra is famous in the Mexican state of Querétaro for founding four missions in the Huasteca Potosina. All four have been lovingly restored and are well worth the six-hour drive from San MIguel de Allende for a visit. The sanctuary of the Santa Barbara Mission church remains unmistakably Spanish Catholic, but somehow seems more warm and inviting than churches I’ve visited in Mexico. But then again, everything in Santa Barbara seems warm and inviting.

Although we did a little touring, the main reason for this trip was to visit with family. Here, daughter Samantha poses with eight-month-old Henry. He is rapidly making the transition from infant to little boy.

Photo: Laura Josephs

Living in Mexico has many pleasures. But a major disadvantage is traveling distance and the cost of seeing my family. Grandchildren grow faster than seems possible. My kids, now all forty-something parents, were teenagers only yesterday. Many of my expat retiree friends complain that they miss their grandchildren. Mexico has become home for us. Moving north of the border seems to be out of the question. But we all long for the families we left behind.