It's about 1:30 by the time I get back -- I've been Not Paragliding since 9:30. I decide to wander down to the harbor and poke around there; maybe get some lunch.
I poke around. I note that there's kayak rentals here. For the nice calm waters of the harbor. And they have both kinds of kayaks. I'm too wiped to do this now, but I make a mental note of this for future Santa Barbara trips.
I find a nice seafood restaurant and get a table outside with a view of the harbor. I eat a yummy skewer with a chunk of salmon, two shrimp, and a scallop on it. (I reflect that the last time (and also the first time) I ate a scallop was when I was in Santa Barbara for Peggy's wedding. Scallops and Santa Barbara are now forever linked.)
It's 3:30. My train is at 7:00. I realize there isn't much I want to do for the next 3 hours, so get my bags and haul out to the Amtrak station to see if I can't catch an earlier train. (And be home in time for dinner. And not have to wander the creepy Amtrak parking lot at 10:00 p.m.) Amtrak can, indeed, move me to the 4:30 train. I ticket it.
The train is delayed, and doesn't actually come until 5:20. (I think: seasick, fell out of kayak, no wind for paragliding -- why does delayed train not surprise me?) We hit LA around 8; I find my car with a minimal amount of confusion (and only one slightly creepy deserted staircase); and get home.
Cat is happy to see me. I am happy to see her.
And now: dinner and bed.
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