One of the great things about travel with me is that you never have to regret missing something you should have seen. Since I prefer to travel without a plan, there’s nothing to miss. Back in the 70s, I traveled to Paris four times and never visited the Eiffel Tower. Never felt I missed out on it either, since I’d never planned on seeing it.

   And so it was, Carol and I made our first post-vaccination trip to the Danish-themed Hamlet (get it?) of Solvang, CA, nestled snugly in the Santa Ynez Valley, about two-and-a-half hours north of LA.

   Unlike some of these European-themed towns, Solvang is not a replica, but was actually founded by three Danes homesick for pickled herring, frostbite and  the midnight sun. That they reconstituted their dream without any of those elements was a great blessing to me. The other bright spot was that, after about an hour, you’ve seen about all there is to see, and it’s time to find a happy hour where a Viking can rest from the day’s plunders.

Ostrichland, as roadside attractions go, was neither over- priced nor under-delivered. It was a perfect fit, as well, for someone trying to live a life with his head in the sand.

   What a relief that Italian restaurants abound here, making lunch and dinner a celebration, rather than the food dare I’d feared Danish cuisine would be foisting on us.

   But the salvation of the trip was an ostrich farm located on Solvang’s outskirts. Not a salvation for Carol and me, mind you, the Italian eateries alone more than sufficed on that regard. The salvation is for you, dear reader, for whom this blog would have been an otherwise pointless, two-day meander.

   Ostrichland, as roadside attractions go, was neither over- priced nor under-delivered. It was a perfect fit, as well, for someone trying to live a life with his head in the sand. The ostriches and emus (I’d advise any reader still with me to look up the differences between the two species – and then email me with what you learned) were curious, assertive and ravenous. They plowed through our feed bowls like it was our job to entertain them. Our reservation was for an hour, but either the ostriches or emus (waiting to hear from one of you on the difference) had drained both bowls after 15 minutes. Just as well, for a caravan of four Winnebagos full of the type of people for whom visiting snake, alligator and ostrich farms are the sole reason for owning Winnebagos, pulled up just as we were leaving.

   It was time for cheese tasting and a bottle of rose back in town, and then on to the main purpose of the day: a place to enjoy happy hour and to Google a nice Italian restaurant for dinner.

   All in all, Solvang was a pleasant experience, especially with our vaccination passports validated and the partial re-opening of restaurants. It’s a sweet place for a Danish king to dither over a skull and a contemplation of homicidal revenge.

   And it’s way past time for me to stop with these supercilious literary references that, truly, I know nothing about.

   Anybody getting back to me on the ostrich and emu question?