Travelers on a Mission

I’m mad about missions. I’ve had a passion for them ever since I carved a lopsided version of San Miguel Arcangel out of an Ivory soap bar for a fourth-grade project.

The appeal is obvious to me: In California, we rarely see and experience places that are as old or filled with as much history. The atmosphere is haunting, often mysterious.

That’s why I found myself exploring San Diego County’s back country one weekend in July with my mom, Barbara Harrison, and my sister, Linda Franco. I had coaxed them along to visit three lesser known sites: Mission San Luis Rey de Francia, in Oceanside about 1 1/2 hours south of Los Angeles, and its two surviving asistencias, or branches, San Antonio de Pala and Santa Isabel.

Although the coastal mission chain founded by the Franciscans is popular with visitors, most Angelenos are unaware the inland asistencias even exist. Here clocks run on mission time; the pace is slower, the ambience far from the city. I was eager to see the missions and to check out a comfortable B&B; tucked in the hills nearby.

Our journey began on a Saturday as we drove down Interstate 5 to Oceanside, exited at California Highway 76 and traveled about four miles east to San Luis Rey, founded in 1798 by Father Fermin Francisco de Lasuen.

This mission was the 18th in a chain of 21 (excluding asistencias). San Luis Rey was the biggest, covering six acres, with one of the largest American Indian populations. The mission was known for its extensive water gardens and lavanderia, or laundry, which made use of the two natural springs on the grounds. Remains of the lavanderia include gargoyle fountains and a tall flight of narrow stone steps where native Quechnajuichom women (more commonly known by the tribe’s Spanish name, Luiseno) beat piles of wet clothes with wooden paddles.

By the time we arrived at San Luis Rey, the place was humming. A wedding party posed for photographs beneath a flowering wisteria vine. Bride and groom batted blossoms out of their hair as flower girls in green satin dresses played tag around the fountain.

As we wandered the grounds, we noticed that in the old cemetery a huge cross of fresh flowers lay on the final resting place of Carolina Moreno de Bandini, who, according to the marker, died in 1873 at age 24. Despite the enormous floral tribute, no one could tell us who she was.

Other aspects of the mission’s history were less mysterious. In 1957, Disney filmed episodes of the TV show “Zorro,” starring Guy Williams, at the mission. Heavy wooden gates painted by Disney artists once opened onto the cemetery; they’re still here, but on display in the museum.

As fountains splashed and birds twittered all around, we walked through reconstructed rooms where friars slept on rope beds and prayed before crucifixes (still on display) from Spain. The past surrounded us. My mother took a deep breath and said she could catch the scent of cooking smoke from the old cocina.

In the cool dimness of the church, under the domed roof, wedding guests were trailing out beneath religious oil paintings darkened by time. I looked up to see not the mark of Zorro but the notches of an adz blade on the wooden ceiling beams, left there by an Indian craftsman who couldn’t sign his name.

We drove east on California 76 and, like the early padres, followed the San Luis Rey River. We passed golf courses, spa resorts and residential developments painted pink.

After 20 minutes, we drove by Interstate 15, and Old California reasserted itself--citrus and avocado groves, dairy farms and cattle ranches, vineyards and riparian habitat.

We entered the Pala Indian Reservation, where the land looks, I imagined, just as it did 100 years ago. At a tiny gift shop, a Pala woman was stringing beads in front of boxes of freshly packed oranges and kumquats for sale. I told her that I remembered my father bringing me herewhen I was 5. She welcomed me back.

Three gigantic pepper trees flank the buildings of San Antonio de Pala. The friars who founded the asistencia in 1815 brought the trees from their home, San Luis Rey. I thought the pepper tree was merely ornamental, a symbol of Old California. But the woman said that the tree’s small berries can be dried, ground up and used as seasoning.

Like all mission churches, the one at Pala was built by American Indians. They painted symbols on the walls, and when a disapproving padre had the artwork whitewashed in 1903, he nearly caused a riot. The whitewash was removed and, original symbols intact, the church stands quiet and pristine across the street from a store where a few examples of Pala crafts are on display.

It was getting late, so we checked into the Zosa Gardens Bed and Breakfast, about a 20-minute drive west, off Old Highway 395 in Escondido. This 22-acre hideaway in the hills was originally built as a private ranch house. Owned by the Zosa family for the last 10 years, the friendly, intimate B&B; has 15 rooms and two cottages set among avocado and guava orchards. A beautiful garden gazebo and tennis courts with a view make this a real find.

We stayed in the Orchards Cottage, which has two bedrooms, a living room, bathroom, kitchen and its own outdoor hot tub. (Our cottage was $247.50 a night; rooms start at $139.)

Noli Zosa runs the place with the help of Filipina chef Celia Cabia. The atmosphere is more like a house party than a hotel, with wine and delicious Filipino hors d’oeuvres served at 5 p.m.

Our dinner later at Rio Rico Restaurant in the nearby town of Bonsall was disappointing. The atmosphere was nice, but the food was uninspired. Breakfast around the pool at Zosa Gardens the next morning more than made up for the previous night’s experience. We especially enjoyed the fresh guava- and orange-juice blend, spicy quiche and just-out-of-the-oven cinnamon cake, all included in the nightly rate.

Back on the road, we traveled to our final mission, Santa Isabel, just beyond La Jolla Indian Reservation, 60 miles east of San Diego. Like Pala, this mission was founded as an asistencia of San Luis Rey.

At Santa Isabel, the cemetery is the oldest remnant of an 1818-built mission that served nearly 500 people living in the surrounding valley. After secularization of the missions in the 1830s, the church fell into ruins until nothing was left. It was rebuilt in 1924, but in 1926 its two bells, purchased by the local Indians in exchange for six burro-loads of grain, were stolen. Considered the heart of the mission, the bells are still gone; a statue marks their loss in the small courtyard beside the church.

In the town of Santa Ysabel, a historic place of white wooden false-front buildings at the crossroads of California Highways 78 and 79, we stopped at Dudley’s Bakery--a local institution--to buy hot cheese bread, sourdough and sheepherder’s bread. All the way home in the car, the three of us speculated about the lost Carolina Moreno of San Luis Rey and the missing bells of Santa Isabel, while the smell of freshly baked loaves kept us company.

Budget for Three

Zosa Gardens cottage, one night: $247.50

Lunch, Carrows: 18.58

Admission, San Luis Rey: 11.00

Dinner, Rio Rico: 41.00

Other mission donations: 6.00

Gas: 20.43

FINAL TAB: $344.51

Zosa Gardens Bed and Breakfast, 9381 W. Lilac Road, Escondido, CA 92026; tel. (800) 711-8361 or (760) 723-9093, fax (760) 723-3460, Internet https://www.zosagardens.com. Mission San Luis Rey de Francia, 4050 Mission Ave., Oceanside, CA 92057; tel. (760) 757-3651, Internet https://www.sanluisrey.org.

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