SANTA YNEZ, Calif. — I had just finished the first bite of a smoky barbecue tri-tip on crusty sourdough and taken a sip of a Rhone red when a flash of blue caught my eye, and I saw a bird land on a nearby oak tree.
"Look!" I said to my husband. "The bluebird of happiness." Given our contentment at that moment, the bird seemed an apt symbol, even though I knew it wasn't really a bluebird but a blue jay. This wasn't about ornithology, though; it was about pleasure--and about a challenge we had set for ourselves.
Terry and I wanted to spend a lovely weekend without spending a fortune in the increasingly upscale Santa Ynez Valley, a cluster of towns--Santa Ynez, Los Olivos, Solvang, Buellton and Ballard--about half an hour north of Santa Barbara. The valley, with its bucolic vineyards, horse ranches and old oaks, is one of our favorite getaway spots. But room rates at the high-end lodgings, including the new Santa Valley Inn, are in the $200-to-$400-a-night range.
What about folks like us, who might have a taste for champagne and caviar but a budget more suited for beer and pretzels? Is there any hope?
Usually when we visit the Santa Ynez Valley, we stay in less costly Santa Maria or Lompoc, or we just make a day trip of it. Once we stayed at an inexpensive motel in Solvang, the capital of Danish kitsch, and hated the experience.
But in January, with saving money foremost in our minds, we gave the town another try. The Solvang Gardens Lodge caught my eye partly because its Internet site showed off-season rates starting at $49 per night. The lodge was built in 1950, modeled after a Danish farmhouse, and recently had come under new ownership. The rooms were being upgraded one at a time, and judging from the Web site's pictures, they looked pretty.
When I called to make a reservation, all the rooms overlooking the lodge's back garden were taken. But the reservations clerk said one of the big suites in front was available; it wasn't remodeled yet, but at $89, it sounded worth a gamble.
Two hours after leaving our Los Angeles home, we pulled into the circular drive of the lodge, which is a couple of blocks from the main tourist area of Solvang--another plus in my book. I held my breath as Terry unlocked the door to our room. It was a full suite, exactly as described: a spacious living room, complete kitchen, separate bedroom and big bathroom. And, also as described, it had not been remodeled. The furniture was vintage '50s but homey.
Later in the weekend we peeked into some of the renovated units. With cheery fabrics and new marble bathrooms, they were inviting. The flower garden in back was even larger and more pleasant than it appeared on the Web. I could easily imagine sipping a glass of wine out there on a summer evening.
But this was winter. So before setting out for dinner at a Santa Ynez steakhouse called the Red Barn, we wrapped ourselves in scarves, hats and gloves.
The Red Barn is an informal place with red-checked tablecloths, steer horns over the fireplace, and waitresses and patrons in Western garb. The hostess gave us a table right by the hearth.
The relish plate--carrot sticks, olives and hot peppers--was another flashback to the '50s, and the steaks that followed were satisfying enough to please the most ravenous cowboy.
The next morning started on a cost-conscious note: continental breakfast, included in the hotel's nightly rate.
That was followed by a short drive to the town of Santa Ynez, which leans heavily on its Old West heritage. Some of the buildings date back to the 1800s, so the place can feel like a John Wayne movie set.
Mixed among the tack and feed-and-grain stores are shops for home furnishings, antiques and clothing. Sales were everywhere, and I couldn't resist a cozy red fleece jacket at 25% off. (Yes, we were trying to economize, but isn't buying on sale a sound financial practice too?)
Our walk took us right by the Santa Ynez Inn, built to resemble a Victorian mansion, which opened in October. It is one of the most expensive places in the valley; its 14 rooms start at $245 and climb to $395 a night.
We were curious to see what that kind of tariff might get, so we stepped into the ornate lobby, rich with etched glass and gleaming woodwork. We also peeked into the breakfast room and the elegant parlor, where guests partake of wine and hors d'oeuvres in the evening. But we couldn't see the guest rooms; they were booked.
It was luxurious, that's for sure, but certainly not as homey as our lodge, I told myself, firmly suppressing a twinge of envy. The price seemed high, and I wasn't too taken with the Victorian frills anyway, which seemed a little fussy for the rustic wine-country setting.
