The next day, on our way to Sacramento, we drove through Napa Valley. What beautiful country, in its own right. The hills behind the vineyard were dry, which contrasted beautifully with the green of the bunches of grapes. We got a tip from a few locals and ended up at this Italian deli
. There we feasted on gouda, smooth cheese (almost like butter), sourdough bread, a turkey sandwich, and two pieces of succulent chocolate cakes. The manager was so cordial and allowed us to stay and eat as he closed the deli. We drove on to Sacramento where we met up with Patrick, a fellow Sandy interned with. We went to a restaurant where we had tapas, or appetizers, and the flavors of each dish left us wishing we were hungrier and could eat more. Afterwards Patrick opened his apartment and handed over his bedroom to us. As we emerged from his commandeered bedroom in the morning he had a feast of turkey bacon, eggs, fruit, toast, cereal and muffins. This was a fantastic start to our day. Patrick, a guy we had met only twelve hours before, went above and beyond the call of ordinary 23-year-old guys and showed us hospitality and excellence we never expected. Reminding us that no one should ever be defined by their age or stereotype. We wish they all could be California boys.
Driving through the Redwoods we loved the size of the trees, but were a little distracted because night was coming in fast and we needed a campground. Now this is amazing how the Lord works, we pulled in to a few different campgrounds but could not be satisfied for one reason or another. Finally, we pull into this obscure campground, very near the ocean but kind of reminiscent of a swamp area. They are having a campground grill out, with tiki torches and old men who remind one of backwoods Tennessee mountain men playing folk music. We set up our tent, made spaghetti once again, and then sat and enjoyed the music, as performers would wander on and off the stage as they felt compelled.