There’s an aura of almost rapturous serenity in the hallways of the Hotel Santa Barbara in the early morning hours. It exudes a realm and a mindset so far removed from the world of Hispanic party elephants it’s not even funny. I spoke to a local cab driver last night who didn’t even know that Santa Barbara hosts an annual film festival, much that the festival was beginning last night. So many people live in their little bubbles.
It began to rain in Santa Barbara early this morning, but there’s still that Mediterranean climate, and the pleasant fragrance of flowers and soil and shrubbery just outside and the chiffon yellow color of the walls, and the nice free breakfast downstairs — fruit, bagels, granola, orange juice, coffee.
