Kiwis and Fairy Bread

28 June 2025

Mike and I travel quite a bit. And there comes a day in each trip when we are satisfied. When we are ready to go home. In New Zealand that was our last night in Queenstown, where we spent an enjoyable evening with new friends Marianna, Juan, Chelsea and Rhys (see post 2nd January 2024). On last summer’s trip to England it was after our ten mile walk to and from Mousehole, Cornwall (See 6th July, 2024). And for this, our cross country trek, it is today, when I connected with my twenty two year old self, and thanked her for setting me on the path to a loving and beautiful life. My fifty eight year old self is quite happy, very much in love and still, apparently “very granola”.

As usual we awoke early and after a quick breakfast headed to the nearby Mi Familia Lavendaria where our clothes dried in a meer thirty minutes. This bright and airy laundry had boldly printed signs everywhere “For sanitary reasons, do not sit on counters”. ‘Do not leave laundry unattended” “ Change machine is for customers only”. A good place. We should have come here last night.

At check-in yesterday Mike noticed a sign for The Napa Farmer’s Market running today from 8am -1pm. Having a few hours before out meet up at the camp, we decided to check it out.

Now, you know it’s a good farmer’s market when you arrive at ten minutes after eight in the morning and can’t find a parking space. Heading down Main Street in search of a spot, we saw lots of people with baskets and grocery bags in hand. This was going to be something.

And it was! There must have been over a hundred vendors and it was organized really well. Stopping at a loose tea vendor we were greeted from behind by Bob from Brooklyn, who seemed to be the unofficial ambassador of the place. He extolled the virtues of the stalls around us. He loved the teas and recommended his favorite varieties until the actual tea guy returned. I bought two bags of the divine smelling Affogato, one for me and one for Emi.

The next stall was Skillet Doctor, who had some beautiful cast iron pieces, but too heavy for my suitcase. We bought a pair of gourd shakers from a kind and talented West African woman. Got coffees, custard tarts and surprisingly good bagels, which we ate with some very nice locals. I was surprised to hear this fabulous outdoor market runs year round. They were surprised that we were from New Jersey, we seemed like Californians. We took the compliment.

And then it was time for what we had come to Napa for: our visit to Enchanted Hills Camp. Up out of town and onto Mount Veeder Road, which I was so familiar with once upon a time. The vineyards we passed looked the same, as did the twists and turns, but the wildfires of 2018 were apparent. There were a lot less trees.

And then we were there, at the gates of Enchanted Hills Camp where I spent two glorious and life changing summers working with campers who were all visually impaired. Mike even came to visit me that second summer and volunteered for a weekend. It is a place very dear to me.

A few months ago I had found Tony, who served as camp director for decades and is now the Alumni Association Coordinator. Earlier in June I was the featured guest on his EHC Time Capsule over Zoom. About a dozen campers were on the zoom, some of whom remembered me! It was especially wonderful to connect with Donna, who was a fellow councilor and dear friend. For about an hour we all chatted about my time there, how it still affects me and how the camp has changed. But what brought me to tears, was when everyone sang the camp song. They went into a second verse which I wrote!!

Tony greeted Mike and I like old friends and had us drive down the steep hill to the paved parking lot and covered greeting pavilion.

Now when I was there, this was just a grassy area in an orchard. We greeted campers with a clip board. There were no lights, and it had freaked Mike out during his first visit when we arrived on a pitch dark night. I had known my way around by my feet.

We were immediately introduced to Jamey, the new EHC director who had been a camper and councilor. I looked down to the lake and could not believe I was back! I was excited, and teary eyed.

As I had been warned, the camp is much changed. Not only were the years 1989 and 90 lean years for the camp financially, but building codes, regulations, employee/volunteer screening, and even the climate have all changed.

We started our tour in a house that was much as I remembered. In my day it contained an office, lounge and little guest bedrooms. The latter hadn’t changed a bit, with their dark wood paneling and tall windows and twin beds. In the common room the window seats with green cushions were gone and the walls were an off white. The porch looked down onto the pond, the old mess hall and a new camp directors residence.

The pond now has a fence around it. The old mess hall is used only occasionally, but still has the same coffee station and fire place. Mike told the story of how a camper asked him to support her as they sang a broadway tune in this spot. She was nervous only until the first note, when she wowed everyone like Ethel Merman herself. Whenever it rained all the campers would huddle around that fire place. “Oh, it never rains here any more”. And it seems the once-a-summer 105 degree days are now a regular thing.

The upper art building, called The Hogan, was much the same, but all the upper cabins were much nicer. And there are no ropes. In my day campers used guide ropes to find their way throughout the camp. I used to close my eyes and use them too.

Jamey told me that treatment for visual impairments starts much earlier now, and along with that comes extensive life skill training, including using a cane. Currently 85% of the camp staff is visually impaired, compared to just 15% when I was there. We met several of them, who were enjoying a day off between sessions.

I was introduced as Kiva Ellen, because my work used to be based in The Kiva, the performing arts building. Gone was the stage, now considered a hazard (I get it, but I do love a stage), but the main room was still big and cool. I told the staff there about the dances we had held and how we hung ribbons from the ceiling for texture. I had danced my best with people who used wheel chairs. It was fast and fun! I told of the shows we did and the combined art and music classes we did. They showed me the radio station, which is still used. I cannot tell you the joy of being in The Kiva again.

The staff were very much the same as we all had been. Young, beautiful, enthusiastic, friendly, and very happy to be there. I understood the very hard work they had been doing during the recent Adults with Developmental Disabilities session. That was always the most intensive, even with one assigned councilor per camper.

Jamey, Tony and I talked about the various incarnations the playground had gone through. Of course, gone were the zip line and the old rusty jeep. I was surprised the space wasn’t more tactile. I could imagine a great, interactive outdoor space. Maybe someday.

Mike noted the field where he and I slept under the stars one night. Heaven. Continuing down the hill was the pool and lower camp, both entirely new. The damage from the wildfires is most evident here. All the structures were destroyed and replaced by much nicer ones. The main dining hall is here now, meaning campers no longer have a 20 minute up hill walk just to get to meals.

We continued on to the fire circle, now in an amphitheater shape. To a red wood circle both Mike and I remembered well. The bark of the trees are now black like charcoal. Tony and Jamey took us to the old chapel, the most sacred place I have ever been. Redwoods, a trickling stream, wooden benches. We used to hold Sunday services there. Now they hold singing and mediation sessions. I sat and cried. The chapel was restored so well it looked not one bit different.

Tony knows many of the people I worked with: Juli, Michelle, Andrea, Scott, Teresa, Scott, Ajaz, Brigitte, Suzy, Emilia and Paul. If any of you are out there, my love and good wishes to you all! Do reach out and let’s catch up!

Together we were an incredibly special, understanding, hardworking, charismatic group. Beautiful inside and out. Many of my fellow councilors stayed in the area for years. Because of Tony, I am starting to reconnect with some of them. Tony invited Mike and I to his new annual Alumni Staff Weekend here. How fantastic! It is something we look forward to attending.

Tony lead us up the old forest path back to upper camp and to our car. I was smiling ear to ear. I took the job all those years ago partly because of the name, Enchanted Hills. Never was a place more aptly named.

Tears again and many thanks to Tony and Jamey who took three whole hours on their day off to show Mike and I around. Who indulged me as I shared many memories. I began to sing the camp song again. Jamey said it was especially nice to meet me, the writer of that second verse.

If anyone reading this is looking for a good cause to support I can think of none better than Enchanted Hills Camp. It is a unique place in our world. The rebuild has cost plenty, so much so there is a whole department that promotes EHC as a resort and destination wedding spot. I get it, but wish it could remain solely as it was designed to be in 1927: a camp experience for people with visual impairments. If you know someone who deals with such issues, do share the information in this link: https://lighthouse-sf.org/program/enchanted-hills-camp/

I felt a bit like Cinderella at midnight: time to break the spell. With hugs and thanks Mike and I departed. Sigh.

Down Mount Veeder Road in the other direction where for just a moment is a lovely view of a bright green vineyard-filled valley. Still there is no scenic view turn out in that spot. I always wished there were.

Our plan for lunch was to go to The Oakville Grocery, which I remember as a gourmet deli with a great atmosphere. But apparently it is now a popular destination. With all the 30, 50 and 70 something’s clinking wine glasses over their fancy sandwiches, we couldn’t even find a menu.

We opted instead for an early dinner in downtown Napa. We ate a great wood fired pizza and talked to the cheery local staff. Main Street was hopping. A guy singing Frank Sinatra karaoke accompanied acrobats balancing on a spinning ring. Mike took me in his arms and we danced. Wonderful. We watched flying swifts eat insects and bed down for the night over the Napa river, and saw many groups of partying “wine girls”.

It was all very nice, but I realized that this wasn’t really “My” Napa. My Napa is up in those hills, on Mount Veeder Road where this piece of me, Kiva Ellen, never left…..

I want to wake up at Enchanted Hills

Where my family says Hello

And people start helping each other out

And the love begins to flow

I want to wander up and down the hills

In the place I call my home

And come trickling back to Enchanted Hills

To the place that we love so.