Anyways, the castle is as fantastic as always. If ah had a few billion, just like ole Billy, ah thinks ah might have built me sumfin like it for entertaining mahself and mah friends... seriously, the place is overflowing with priceless art and stuff from European and near Eastern cultures, Egyptian sarcophaguses (sarcophagi?) and Greek statues and Roman tiles and French this and Spanish that and Flamish thingamajigs and and and aaaaaaah. There's stuff ranging from BC to the 20th century. And it all somehow goes together.
There are pools, both indoors and outdoors, there are nice guesthouses, the remains of a zoo and a complete, functional movie theatre. There are sculptures and fountains and balconies and plazas and gardens and glorious views out over the Pacific and the interior hills of California, which are among the most beautiful ever & anywhere. There are winding roads (oh, how they wind!) and cozy walkways.
William Randolph Hearst grew up here and loved the place, and I think I'm falling for it too. Feast yer eyes:
The Casa Grande, the big house. Originally, Billy's mother owned the property, but she would not let him build on it, because she was worried he might be carried away. She knew her son. He talked to an architect within two weeks of her death and kept on building without ever finishing.
The outdoor pool, which is humongous. It is in use ONE day of the year, when staff and volunteers are allowed to dip their bodies into it.
The indoor, Roman pool.
Roman 1st century tilework.
The dinner room. Ketchup & mustard on the table. The atmosphere was casual and Hearst liked to eat steaks most days. But iffin he fancied enchilladas, he'd have 'em flown up fresh from Mexico, or if he felt like lobster, he'd have those flown in fresh from Maine. It's good to be filthy rich.
The ceiling has saints on it. This be St George and the Dragon.
From the movie theatre. Hearst allowed staff to watch the movies together with his guests, who might have been the top politicians, musicians, writers or actors of the day.
Guest houses. I remember them being quite lavishly decorated on the inside too.
Views down to the Pacific. The Hearst corporation has donated vast tracts of land to the State of California, with clauses to keep it as it is, so that no one can build condos and hotels and resorts and such on miles on miles of beach. Fuckin' treehuggers.
Nice flowers.
A very disturbing sculpture. If I was to venture a guess, I'd say a genetically manipulated penguin is taking a dump on the head of a female Art Garfunkel, but I may be wrong.
I can haz cheeseburger?
My sentiments exactly after walking around for a good 90 minutes.
Down by CA 1 I saw Zebras. These are descendants of the animals Billy Hearst had walking around for his own amusement back in the day.
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