Need a shaman? Try upstairs at the mall.

Welcome to Malibu...

In recent years this city overlooking 27 miles of the Pacific Coast Highway has been associated with wildfires, mudslides, evacuations, and tearful stories from movie stars relating how their multi-million dollar homes were reduced to rubble. I expected to see little more than a blackened hillside and lots of long, dreary faces when I visited there this fall.

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The #534 bus from L.A. drops off here, on Cross Creek Road near PCH.

Well, I did see a couple of emergency vehicles the day I landed, but the hills looked fine and the firemen had simply stopped for lunch at the main hangout in town, the Malibu Country Mart. If the name conjures up the specter of flea market vendors and 99 cent consumer goods, the reality is quite in the other direction. This bustling hub resembles a Town and Country development, with high-end specialty shops surrounding a courtyard and patio. Ralph Loren, Rock Star, a Belgian chocolatier, etc. etc.

The good news is you don't have to be packing an American Express card to bask in the ambience of wealth and leisure in Hollywood's famous coastal colony. According to the posted signs, it's OK drop anchor beneath one of the varnished teak picnic table's green canvass umbrellas and pass a pleasant hour without ever having to open your wallet. Even on a sunless, overcast day in November when I took these photos, the Country Mart is a refuge from a harsh "Show me the money" world.

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And judging by the car traffic, I'm not the only one who thinks so. Across the street, there's a movie theatre, more stores, and an overpriced delicatessan/cafe that's popular with the locals. After conducting some reconaissance of the area, I found the latter outfit sold Peet's coffee and plunked down a not unreasonable $1.65 for a cup. (Watch out for the day-old, half-priced muffins, though. They cost $1.75!) Then I took my brew back across the street to sit in the patio and munch on a loaf of carrot cake I purchased at Whole Foods before boarding the bus in Santa Monica.

A playground at the center of the courtyard is an especially nice touch, allowing adults to sit back and watch their little ones digging in the sand, getting pushed in a swing, or appreciating the tall sculpture of a broken red hammer astride the sandbox. And if you're a fan of the Westminster Dog Show, you'll find lots of unusual pedigrees wandering about with their patrons or partaking of the french fries at lunch.

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Once I got acclimated to this quirky place nestled along the scenic coastline, it was time to venture out for bigger thrills. Most tours of Malibu emphasize a visit to a celebrity home, but I had no interest in keeping up with the Jones's and believe everyone deserves their privacy at home. Instead, I sniffed around until I located the public library just around the corner from the Mart, and rustled up a one-page flyer about what to see and things to do. (Because of the high price of real estate, I read in a local newspaper that few city workers actually live in Malibu. Except, that is, for the schools superintendent, who makes about three hundred grand and gets a condo as part of his compensation package. And the district is struggling with a huge debt...)

Anyway, the landmarks listed in the flyer were all closeby, so I hopped on my bike and headed out to find them.

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