In Ojai, tickled pink and green

Ojai

My husband had just turned 50, and in the 10 years Mitchell and I had been parents, we had yet to travel without our sons, even for a night. So when dear friends agreed to take our two boys, they didn’t have to offer twice.

Ojai was our destination, partly because we hoped to spend as little time as possible in the car and partly because it’s just the place for harried city people seeking serenity and silence.

The city, at the foot of the Topa Topa Mountains, might be at its best after the busy summer season. The days are mild and the nights cool. As we neared the city along California 33 in November, early snow shimmered on distant peaks.

Less than two hours after we left our L.A. house, we arrived on a Friday at the thoroughly charming Emerald Iguana Inn, snuggled among oak, sycamore and pepper trees on a dead-end street a few blocks from Ojai’s business district.

The 2-year-old Emerald Iguana is the sister (do iguanas have sisters?) to the Blue Iguana Inn, a few miles west. Both are home to large tiled sculptures of iguanas (you can imagine the colors) perched in fountains like benevolent fairy tale kings. Architect Marc Whitman, who owns the inns with his wife, Julia, was inspired by the work of Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi in Barcelona’s Parc Guell.

The Whitmans have nine cottages at the Emerald Iguana, all built from scratch except the largest, a stone building put up around 1906. With its kitchen, porch and whirlpool-equipped bathroom, it is substantially bigger than some apartments I’ve rented. Like several of the cottages, it can be combined with adjoining suites, creating a space with up to three bedrooms. The rooms are furnished with pieces Julia Whitman bought on a trip to Bali and other parts of Indonesia; artisans were hired to make headboards and other furnishings to match the imports.

Our room, $165 a night plus tax, was called Feather. (Julia Whitman said room numbers just did not feel right.) It was spacious yet cozy, with a private patio and vines draping the exterior. The woman who checked us in said she had spent her honeymoon there.

Thoughtful touches include bathrobes, a notebook of restaurant menus and a list of hiking and biking trails. The staff can arrange in-room massages. There’s no charge for local calls, and even the home number of the owner is provided.

In the pink

We found ourselves wandering through town by sunset, known as the “pink moment” here. The moment -- a few minutes, really -- is remarkably pink as the sun dips behind the mountains that crowd the city.

Once the moment turned dusky gray, we stepped into Bart’s Books, where we could have spent all day. The outdoor bookstore is made up of an old house and connected stalls holding tens of thousands of books, from Danielle Steele paperbacks to first editions costing hundreds of dollars. In the courtyard sit tables and chairs and a California live oak, 250 or so years old, surrounded by benches. My husband found a long-sought gift for a friend; I got a half-price mystery.

Our two-mile trip to dinner was the only time all weekend we needed our car. We chose Boccali’s because we had been told that dishes were made using ingredients grown on the adjacent farm, which also sells pumpkins in the fall and trees at Christmastime. Produce was for sale outside, with an honor-system tin for payment.

DeWayne and Marilyn Boccali’s restaurant is classic Italian American, with red-checked tablecloths and curtains. We shared a dish of farfalle with homegrown tomatoes, garlic, basil and onions. It was simple food, well made, as was our pizza with olives and fresh artichokes. Local wine was the perfect accompaniment.

On weekends at the Emerald Iguana, a breakfast buffet (included in the nightly rate) is set out by the tiny swimming pool decadently late: 9 to 11 a.m. On Saturday we took hard-boiled eggs, muffins, bagels, yogurt, fruit, coffee and tea to our private terrace 50 or so steps away. Breakfast was the source of my only complaint: no milk for the coffee, only those little packaged containers of half and half.

Keeping to our snail-like pace, we spent the morning poking around downtown. Appealing shops sell clothes, gifts and the work of local artists. We were grateful for the arcade overhead because rain had arrived, as if we needed another incentive to slow down.

My husband bought a poncho at Ojai Surplus, figuring that surely would hold off the storm; apparently he should have spent more than $3.99, because the rain stayed away only part of the day.

We stopped for tamales at the then-5-month-old Me Gusta and ate at one of the two tables. (The next day, when we stopped for tamales to take home, the restaurant gave us a free pineapple tamale to sample.) Then we got delicious gelato at Azu, a Mediterranean bakery and deli that looked like a promising place to pick up picnic fare next time.

After lunch, my first attempt at mountain biking took us along Shelf Road, a fire road accessible from Signal Street in town. It runs a couple of miles past beautiful orange and avocado groves as it rises above Ojai, overlooking the valley and mountains beyond. The dry brush on the hillside contrasted with the deep green farmland below. The road was plenty steep for a beginner, but it was well maintained and easy to negotiate.

We brought bikes from home, but a bike shop for rentals is at 108 Canada St., just a few blocks from the Emerald Iguana. A couple of dozen walking or biking routes run through the Ojai Valley, from an easy nature trail at Wheeler Gorge to steep, long trips up the mountains of Los Padres National Forest.

We returned to town along the humble beginning of the Ojai Valley Trail, a bicycle and walking path along a 100-year-old railroad line from Ojai to Ventura.

After such strenuous effort, we needed fortification: first cappuccino at the busy Ojai Coffee Roasting Co., then the Emerald Iguana’s outdoor whirlpool. In a light rain and chilly air, with champagne we had stashed in our room refrigerator, our soak was heavenly.

Comfort food

L’Auberge is situated for romantic views of Ojai’s sunsets. Dark clouds obscured the pink moment, but the rain seemed a good companion for Paul Franssen’s traditional, comforting French-Belgian food.

We began with two terrines, one seafood and one country-style pate, each served with salad and bread. The seafood was especially pretty and delicious. My rabbit entree, cooked in beer and mustard, was flavorful. My husband ate trout Florentine. I had mentioned his birthday when I made reservations and, without prompting, the waitress brought him a rich chocolate mousse topped with a candle. My cappuccino bombe was equally good.

From there we headed to Movino, a new wine bar that was full of young to middle-aged people listening to live jazz and drinking a good selection of wines by the glass. As at many Ojai businesses, the walls here were decorated with art, bright paintings of people aching to see and be seen.

The next morning, our final stop was the year-round Sunday farmers market on East Matilija Street downtown. A five-piece bluegrass band played. Toddlers jumped in puddles. We bought homemade olive oil, lime preserves, handmade beeswax candles and dried orange slices as presents for the friends who kept our sons -- gifts that hardly expressed how much we valued the chance to slow down, smell the coffee and walk in the rain.

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Expenses for this trip:

Emerald Iguana Inn

Two nights, with tax $363.00

Dinner

Boccali’s $61.06

Lunch

Me Gusta $8.05

Dessert

Azu $6.00

Dinner

L’Auberge $91.20

Other food $34.00

Gas $14.49

Final tab $577.80

CONTACT:

Emerald Iguana Inn, 11794 N. Ventura Ave., Ojai, CA 93023; (805) 646-5277, fax (805) 640-2866, www.emeraldiguana.com.

Mary MacVean writes for The Times’ Extended News Desk.