My sketch trip to the funky little town of Port Costa got off to a rough start. On the way into town I spotted an interesting old school and pulled off the road to sketch it. Literally. Off the road. I didn’t spot the drainage ditch and my car ended up teetering with two wheels hanging and two wheels on the road.
The tow truck driver was funny and took a movie of me and my car, dictating the facts of the case at the same time, I guess to prove to AAA that it was all fixed. I waved and smiled at his phone and said thanks.
After my ordeal and late start I didn’t feel like setting up outside with the rest of my plein air group. I needed a place where I could relax and this charming café in the 100-year-old, disheveled Burlington Hotel was a delightful place to hang out.
A bunch of 20-somethings had stayed at the rundown, barely-renovated, bat-filled hotel for someone’s birthday and had drunk themselves silly slumming at the Warehouse (biker) Bar across the street the night before. Their hangovers and stories of their wild evening climbing fences along the railroad tracks provided amusement while I sketched.