Newport Beach I: Becoming a Cool Person

Dave and I wanted to be "cool," like our kids.  Newport Beach, California, is where our children celebrated high school graduation with their friends, and where Camille and Steve spent a week every summer, for years, after they were married.  It is where many Utah families vacation every year.  So, on March 17 and 18, 2022, we explored Newport Beach and tried to act cool.  Here I am, on the main street on Balboa Island, with Newport Beach favorites--a Balboa bar and ice cream in a waffle cone.  All I needed to have a monopoly on the sweet treats was a few pieces of taffy and a chocolate-dipped banana!
 

We ate dinner at The Crab Cooker.  When we asked Emilie, Camille's daughter, if that was a good restaurant, she said, "It's where the parents went after they fed the kids somewhere else."  

I have often said that Salt Lake has everything for perfect recreation but one--the ocean.  I should add that part of "the ocean" which Salt Lake lacks is good, inexpensive fresh fish, and lots of it.  

I savored my crab cakes, served with tartar sauce and mashed potatoes.

After an early supper, Dave and I walked around Balboa Island, with its picturesque homes and shops.

Our guidebook directed us to the Balboa Candy shop, with its barrels of salt water taffy and other treats.

There were many specialty clothing shops, with beachwear like these painted sandals.

Some of the shops were upscale, like this one.

There were also dozens of t-shirt and souvenir shops.  I sometimes browse shops for distinctive ethnic handicrafts, especially when I travel abroad, but clothes and souvenir stores don't intrigue me.  David has even less interest in shops than I do.  We cruised Balboa Island's main street mainly to feel like cool people.

Balboa Island had lots of restaurants and many interesting cars.

We called Emilie several times, during our visit to Newport Beach, for suggestions.  Emilie said that there are two stores, right next to each other, that each claim to be the creator of Balboa bars.  That treat is a slab of vanilla ice cream dipped in melted chocolate as you watch, and then rolled in the candy or nuts of your choice.  "Personally, I prefer the frozen bananas," Emilie said. 

We continued our stroll around the island, past dozens of beach houses.  Many of our children's memories of Newport Beach and Balboa are of the beach houses, full of sand and of people laughing and talking, pausing just to eat and sleep before heading back to the beach.

We passed little inlets where boats were parked next to the beach houses.

We finally came to the ferry terminal to the mainland, with its sailboats and cabin cruisers.  David has steadfastly refused to buy a boat, although he has eventually yielded on a cabin, second home in St. George, a swimming pool, four-wheelers, and two hot tubs.  I tease David that, the day after he dies, I'm buying a boat.  Maybe I will hang out on Balboa Island with my boat, eating chocolate-covered bananas and wearing sandals with flowers painted on them.  I'll be a cool person.