Over the weekend, I took a family trip to Lakeport on the recommendation of my mom's co-worker. Apparently Clearlake is super pretty. And their eggs are more yummy and fresh.
Final verdict? The few hours we spent at the Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco for lunch on the way home was more fun than the two days we spent in Lakeport. To quote my mother: "Lake Tahoe is prettier."
However, I never been to a small town like Lakeport before. I felt like I was in an episode of Gilmore Girls. Their Main Street was less than a mile long and everything closes before 8pm. Some even earlier. This was particularly annoying when my brother and I had a mighty crave for some ice cream, and so we ventured down Main Street. To be honest, I thought it would be cute to sit in a small town ice cream parlor, digging into an ice cream sundae while eyeing the local eye candy (Oh! Maybe I'll find my own Dean...did he ever have a last name?) on a warm Saturday afternoon. Felt like a very small town-y thing to do and wouldn't be something I'd be able to do in my more urban hometown.
Well, it turned out I wouldn't be able to fulfill my Gilmore Girl fantasies because both of the ice cream parlors we found had closed at 2pm and 4pm, respectively. My brother and I ended up going up to the first gas station/convenience store we saw and buying our corporate manufactured ice cream bars there. Oh, and that's not even the best part. When we reached the convenience store, there was a hand-written "Be right back. Come back later," sign taped to the door. So we stood outside the door and waited.
If I was religious, I think that would have been the breaking point for me. No higher deity stands between me and my food cravings.
Also, 80% of the male population there had 40-inch waistlines and rode Harley-Davidsons. It was a good trip.