do you know the way to san jose?

I'm back at Frances' parent's place in San Jose, on the way home to Santa Cruz from our whirlwind tour of Berkeley and San Francisco. Many apologies for those out there hanging for an update - internet has been scarce and expensive, and I feel kinda bad locking myself away from the sights and sounds of the big city for an hour to write an entry. So in lieu of something proper, here is a baby post, while I wait for everyone to finish their five-star home cooked breakfast and file through a much needed midday shower.

San Jose is smack bang in the middle of Silicon Valley, which is pretty much the hub of the internet age. Frances' parents moved here about 15 years ago to work with computers when they still took up a room and needed water-cooling systems so that they didn't overheat. Today San Jose is full of insanely rich twenty and thirty something techies who have relocated from all over the country. And when they're not working, they need something to do to prevent the boredom setting in. The centre of the town has been redeveloped into a kilometre long stretch of plastic consumer culture.

Santana Row is the main drag and we took a drive down it yesterday in Elly's beat-up Volvo. It's very "pretty", but it also feels very artificial. Upper-end brands like Burberry and Gucci rub shoulders with top-class restaurants, where people decked head to toe in pastels eat salads and play on their Blackberries. Shiny SUVs are parked as far as the eye can see. A mexican band has been imported to play on the street to try to bring some atmosphere to the place, and they play enthusiastically to a boozy crowd. There are lush trees and lawns in the centre of the road, an oversized chess set, a lot of seating. Good in theory, perhaps, but in practice it kinda leaves a bad taste in your mouth. I was relieved when we got to the end of the street and took a left back into the real world. We turned the music up loud and sung along all the way back to Frances' place.