When we here in Santa Ramona think of Christmas, we think Santa, Elves, presents and trees. We love our sun and our sand but when the holiday’s come around I suspect we all get a little twinge in our heart when we think of what we won’t get… Snow. Well, a quick, easy drive inland and you can have your cake and eat it too at a cozy little Village occupied by the well shined jackboot of Santa and his Elves that might have the denizens of SRV thinking a little different when Chistmas time comes around, instead of thinking of Santa, Elves, presents and trees, we could simply be thinking of Winter Valley. When you first enter Winter Valley it almost feels like another country. The Swiss Alps or the Swedish Sarektjåkkå. After you park the car and wander in to the heart of the village you’re greeted by a jolly Santa and enchanting sounds and smells. Across the square that sits in the center of the festivities is a four piece band who will really set the mood with trumpets, cello and drums. Between them and you is an absolute smorgasbord (Not to turn back to the Sarektjåkkås) of good eats. Candy Floss, Brezel’s and Brats. Fish and chips for the Catholics among us. Hot Cocoa, Latte’s and if you find the right Elf like I did even a bit of Irish for the last two.
If you tire of the hustle and bustle of the heart of Winters Village, you can take a tour of the street that surrounds it. There you’ll find quite a bit more to enjoy with a sweetheart or spawn. Giant snow globes, Candy, Pets and some other bits of Holiday Magic that I refuse to ruin as I truly believe you should venture up and enjoy it yourself. For those in a family way there are two more Santa’s along the street around the center of town that I found a touch less busy, a blessing for holiday photos with the kids. All in all, for those of us in the Santa Ramona Valley worrying about the drive into the Winter Valley. I would say it’s well worth it if you’ve got any love for the season. And if you don’t? Well. The cool air does the body good and you could always scoff at how you’re not caught up in the corpolitical meat grinder that spawned from dogmatic festivals based on stories of a cosmic Jewish zombie who is somehow his own father and was turned into a month worth of worship for an old white man who's whole life revolves around kids... Did I mention Stephen the Elf and his bottle of Bushmills?